The Artist and the Hunter
by iesnoth
Summary: Artemis Fowl is once again out to save the People from a dangerous epidemic. However, the situation at Fowl Manor becomes tense when a female artist is hired to paint a mural. Can Artemis balance both the People and this new nuisance?
1. REVISED: Boredom

BOOM! Another explosive rocked Fowl Manor, brick mortar and debris pelleting Artemis Fowl II as he ran down the hall to his study. Bombs had been dropping on them for— he didn't know how long, and he didn't know who was responsible. Most importantly, he didn't know where his family was. He had been cut off from the rest of the house when the first missile obliterated the stairs.

"Mother? Father? Butl—koff!" Artemis choked on dust and smoke as he fell against the study door. The ceilings were crumbling with the lack of support, and the flames from the explosives kept him from seeing down the hallways. His throat burned. He couldn't last much longer out here.

He tentatively touched the handle.

It was cool; good. That meant there was most likely no fire within, and if his computers were still operational, perhaps he could locate his family and the person who was doing this.

But when he twisted the doorknob and fell into his safe haven, he realized he had just entered the most dangerous room in the house. On Artemis's desk sat a blue, rugby ball-shaped object: a bio-bomb.

"How do you like my presents, Mud Boy?" Opal Koboi's face flickered on his desk monitor as a bomb collided with the garage. The pixie tossed a truffle into her mouth. "I considered dozens of other, more complex ways to kill you, but a good old surprise air-raid seemed to be the only way to catch you completely unawares." She ate another chocolate as his house burned. "I suppose a simple bio-bomb would have sufficed, but I wanted to DESTROY YOU."

"Where is— my family?" Artemis tried to sound brave, but he had inhaled too much smoke and it was beginning to affect him.

"Hmmmm…" Opal looked off-screen, apparently checking her monitors. "Oh, hey! It looks like your disgusting little Mud-family is coming up the driveway right now. A shame, really—" Opal giggled "— since the bio-bomb is set to take out every living thing within the walls of your quaint compound." She gave a mock sigh of regret. "Oh well. Have a nice afterlife, Fowl."

She pressed the button.

Artemis Fowl woke up with a start, nearly breaking his imported Teherani office chair as he catapulted forward.

He had been asleep.

During the day.

Artemis never took naps. He always had so much work to do, so many projects to finish, that he woke up before Butler made his morning rounds and went to sleep after i_Rugbaí Gold/i_ aired on TG4. He'd even gone three days without sleep once, and was still alert as a night owl when he finally allowed time for rest.

In conclusion, Artemis brooded, I must be infernally bored in order to have fallen asleep during the daytime. He stood, walked around to the front of his desk, and began to pace.

It had been nearly two years since his last adventure with LEP Major Holly Short and their merry band. Holly kept in touch, as usual, when Artemis returned topside, and he delved into personal projects, relieved to be out of mortal peril— for the time being. However, he was used to dealing with some fairy catastrophe at least once a year, and now that two years had past, he had become a bit restless. He didn't wish for anyone's demise, of course, but he wanted some sort of challenge to bring himself out of the creative block he'd been having.

His mother, Angeline Fowl, insisted that such lulls happened to everyone and that he should be enjoying this quiet time with his family.

"You're just like your father was at your age," Mrs. Fowl said when Artemis continued to brood, "except you have nobler motives— and you're a bit shorter."

But Artemis Fowl the Second; criminal genius, time traveller, and friend of the People, was not meant to live a quiet life.

He called Holly almost every day, pretending to be just calling for a chat, but they both knew he wanted some intrigue or puzzle to unravel.

"I'm sorry, Artemis," Holly said over her v-phone, "There's nothing to report down here. I've got to go to work, but I promise, if there is even a hint of the diabolical, I'll give you a ring." That was three weeks ago.

"And now I'm reduced to taking naps," Artemis grumbled to himself, exiting his office and making his way down the stairs. Butler had taken the day off for personal endeavors, so there was no entertainment in that sector. Artemis huffed indignantly. He ventured to think that his bodyguard was getting lazy, but he knew that wasn't true, especially since Artemis had installed a mini surveillance system in Butler's wristwatch, and knew the manservant would be watching it more avidly than Juliet watched WWE Smackdown.

Artemis walked over to the window and sighed. The weather seemed bearable; perhaps some fresh air would cause some diversion. It's not like he had anything else to do.

He found his mother and brothers out in the garden. Angeline Fowl read through the newspaper while keeping a suspicious eye on her twins, who seemed to be digging for worms. Artemis sat down in the dirt next to his brothers, not worried about stains since he was wearing the deplorable jeans his mother insisted on buying him.

"Arty-miss, doya wanna catch worms with us?" Beckett trilled, proffering his half-filled bucket.

"I'm going to do experiments on them," Myles explained,

"And then I'm going to eat them!" Beckett pronounced.

Artemis shot a glance at his mother, who gave him her don't-worry-I've-already-taken-care-of-it wink. The genius sighed and accepted a blue, plastic shovel. Reduced to digging for worms. He hoped Holly would call soon.

"Oh, Artemis, look at this!" Angeline folded the newspaper she was holding so that the desired article or, in this case, advertisement, faced him. "The National College of Art and Design is opening their gallery tomorrow! We should go see it, as sort of a mother/son outing."

"Mother, I'm not really interested in—"

"Artemis, come now. You've been moping about the house, doing nothing in your study," she looked pointedly at what he held in his hand, "digging up worms. You need to get out. You're coming with me, whether you come peacefully or I have Butler drag you."

Artemis blew some unruly bangs from his face and gave Angeline a tight smile. He loved his mother, but being normal was very taxing on his nerves.

"Victoria Bering!" The chairman for the studio art department shouted as the student tried to sneak past.

Victoria winced. _Oh, well,_ she sighed._ If I had made it into the three-story building carrying four easels, a portfolio case, my backpack, and two five-by-eight foot canvases, it would have been an act of God._

She turned slowly to face the chairman, a tight smile on her face. He was not charmed. "Ms. Bering, you are late."

"I know, Mr. Byrne, but I was out in the country visiting friends, and their car popped a tire, and it took the bus a while to get there, so-"

Mr. Byrne sighed. "I wouldn't be so disappointed if you were _just_ late, but you are also two pieces short of the quota, and the scholarship committee will be here tonight to determine whether you get the grant!"

Victoria bit her lip: she wasn't good with deadlines.

"However," Mr. Byrne said, "Your work is some of the best the school has seen, at least from our foreign exchange students. Go on in, I saved you a spot."

She smiled thankfully at the chairman and rushed past him, kicking the door open and nearly pasted a middle-aged woman coming out of it.

Victoria's series for the semester was based on Irish folk tales and placing them in Ireland's current culture, or vice versa. Her _pièce de résistance_, however, were her two humongous pieces, a tribute to Ireland itself. One was a night scene of leprechauns in a forest, the other was a pub scene based on a restaurant and bar she'd eaten at downtown. Even though Mr. Byrne lamented her two missing pieces, Victoria considered her display perfectly complete.

It was getting the display ready that was a nightmare.

First, she couldn't find a ladder. Then the matting on a piece came loose, she ran out of tape, and realized one of the easels was missing a screw. Other art students walking past eyed the exchange student's antics with mild amusement and pity. By this time, _she_ had a screw loose.

"Augh!" Victoria kicked the wall, and the vibrations jostled one of her precariously hung pieces from its perch. Her heart dropped as she lurched forward, managing to catch it before it hit the ground. She sighed, leaning the piece gently against the wall. This wasn't working.

"Do you need some help?"

Victoria smiled, relieved, as her twin friends, Joseph and Jenna O'Connor, strode up. Both sported paint-splattered jeans, green tops, and blue scarves, and their curly, brown hair covered by matching plaid berets.

Joseph and Jenna were inseparable. They finished each other's sentences, drink out of the same cup, and rumor had it you couldn't date one without the other tagging along. They even functioned as one artist, never working on separate art pieces. It was like they were a two-headed snake in another life.

Most people found this off-putting or strange, but Victoria, who had never fit in the "in" crowd, made friends with them immediately.

"Yeah," she sighed, "I need to get this piece on that hook, and I need a screw."

"A screw? What did—"

"— You lose some of your own?"

Then the two commenced laughing with identical lilts. Victoria laughed, too.

"Ha ha, yeah… now get your butts in gear!"

Jenna sat on Joseph's shoulders and hung the canvas, while their friend went on a frantic search for screws. With the twins' help, Victoria's spread was finished ten minutes later; five minutes before the doors opened. As thanks, she treated them to (free) sodas at the bar.

"Ummm—" Joseph began, taking a sip of their soda, waiting for Jenna to continue his sentence,

"Are you wearing that to the gallery opening?" she finished.

Victoria looked down and gasped, noticing her thrice-holed jeans and Aladdin T-shirt. "Crap! Stall for me, will ya?" She tossed her cup in the nearest trash can, grabbed her purple backpack containing a change of clothes, and sprinted to the bathroom, nearly running over another middle-aged lady. Actually, come to think of it, she might have been the same one.

Victoria stumbled out of the women's restroom fifteen minutes later, her red-faced panic barely covered by a thin layer of make-up. Her flat-soled shoes skidded on the slick floor as she turned a sharp corner toward her display.

"Well. don't you just have the worst luck, Ms. Bering?"

Victoria steeled herself before facing Ms. Laurent, the dean of sculpture. Laurent had always had it out for the American, ever since one of Victoria's just-for-fun, unfinished sculptures made the dean's best works look like a lump of preschooler's dry play dough. (This wasn't hard to do, though. Even her mediocre students had more creative style. However, Victoria was not one of Laurent's students, which automatically made her an enemy.) Ms. Laurent insisted of firing Victoria's piece herself, since the exchange student was not experienced in the process, and the well-worked clay mysteriously exploded in the kiln.

"What do you mean?" Victoria asked.

"Well, you barely get here on time, you're missing two pieces, and the honor board gives you the privilege of being viewed first, but you're not even there!" Ms. Laurent had the nerve to tut at her. "Really, Victoria, you need to-"

Victoria wasn't listening anymore. _The honor board viewed my pieces first?_ she thought frantically. _Oh, this is not good, not good at all! Being present at the presentation makes big points with the board, and I'm at a disadvantage as it is!_ Victoria nodded absently at whatever the dean said and ran past her to the art display. Jenna and Joseph were there waiting for her. "Wh-why aren't you guys with your artwork?" Victoria asked, barely regaining her balance as she screeched to a halt.

"The board will hit ours close to last," Joseph explained, "but more importantly-"

"Where _were_ you?" Jenna exclaimed, taking Victoria's hands. The twins' mannerisms are the same, but Jenna is much more emotional. "We covered for you as best we could, but they didn't like that you were gone."

"What are you going to do?" they asked her in unison. "Without this scholarship-"

"I- get sent home," she finished. She dropped her backpack dejectedly. "I need a miracle."


	2. What is art?

Artemis Fowl stepped reluctantly out of the Bentley, exhaling into the crisp, December air. He looked up at the tall, brick building, then down at his handcrafted shoes as he walked around the car, side-stepping grey snow-slush.

Butler rolled down his windshield as the youth passed. "Are you sure you can handle this, Artemis?" he asked. "Real college students, I mean? Can you endure the social interaction?"

"I would laugh wryly at your comment, old friend," Artemis hunched his shoulders against the cold, "if it did not ring true. But rest assured, I will try not to humiliate them too much, lest my family's social standing be tarnished."

Butler laughed, half at Artemis's dry humor, half because he wondered if it was humor at all, or if the second Fowl was totally serious.

Artemis caught up to his mother in time to open the door for her, and they entered the college's vaulted front foyer arm-in-arm. Mrs. Fowl almost immediately broke away, however, to coo over an artist's "delicious expression of emotion through horizontal stripes," and Artemis, after pouring himself a cup of tea from the snack bar, melted into a corner to observe. He breathed in methodically, his trained eyes taking in every detail. The room contained a variety of homey scents: baked goods from the tables of snacks; clay, turpentine, and the slight smell of floor cleaner. Various perfumes also permeated the atmosphere, as most of the college's donors had seen fit to attend. The foyer itself was long and open, made for such galleries, with rows of tables in the center of the room where sculptures, jewelry, and other trinkets were displayed. The two-dimensional art hung from floor-to-ceiling, and seemed to be divided by artist. The artists in question roamed close to their displays, answering any questions asked, and otherwise looking very nervous and eager. The graduates, who were no longer worried about grades, viewed the show as a formality and were very laid back. Still others stood with their noses in the air, snootily replying to patrons and ignoring the other artists. Artemis smirked into his cup. Wouldn't he like to knock them down a few pegs. They deserved it, after all-

That was when his mother rushed up to him, her face alight with excitement.

"Arty, darling!- Oh, have you been standing there all evening?- Artemis, _do_ come look at this student's work, it's simply amazing!" Angeline dragged her bored son to the west wall where five paintings hung. Artemis gave the canvases a cursory glance, then looked closer, as the pictures contained one of his favorite subjects; fairies.

He had always taken an interest in the fairy folk, but ever since meeting the real fairies, the People, he enjoyed fairy artwork in a more- ironic sense. To him, this artist's work was satyr at its best. Purple-skinned pixies, leprechauns with gold buckles, pots of gold; it was all there, with a slightly more modern twist. He had a private chuckle over the largest canvas; a scene of Tara with centaurs and fauns dancing, among other things. Foaly would get a kick out of that.

"I'm glad you like it, darling," his mother chirped, "because- oh, if it isn't Mrs. McConnell!" Mrs. Fowl bustled away to visit with the fellow humanitarian, and Artemis continued to study the whimsical artwork. He had to admit, it was quite good, at least for an undergraduate. The shadows could stand to be a bit darker, and the anatomy needed a little work, but- out of the corner of his eye, Artemis noticed a student watching him curiously. She was shorter than he, with shoulder-length red hair and green eyes behind her glasses. She wore a forest green turtleneck, corduroy vest, and jeans which fell over her 10 euro loafers. When he looked in her direction she quickly redirected her attention, staring very sternly into her glass of punch. Artemis smirked. She must be the insecure creator of these pieces. Maybe this evening wouldn't be completely wasted after all.

"They call this art?" Artemis pronounced, loud enough for anyone within a ten-foot radius to hear him. "It's a pretty picture, yes, but it has so many flaws! My five-year-old brother could do better."

He peeked out of the corner of his eye at the redheaded artisan. She rolled her eyes and drank her punch, but her hand shook slightly. She could stand his harsh criticism, but she knew he was provoking her on purpose, and this angered her.

He continued. "I mean, look at the dull lighting! The tree's highlight doesn't match the light of the moon, the centaur here has an extra joint on his left thumb, and look here! Everyone knows a sprite's skin is green, not purple!"

"That's a pixie." The girl was at his elbow now, her green eyes calm but her breath shallow and fast as she fought to control her temper.

"See, you don't even know what you're depicting!" Artemis rebuffed, in only fractionally quieter tones. "That is, in fact, a sprite."

She scowled, pointing to the opposite side of the canvas, "No, this is a sprite."

The genius smiled devilishly at the unfortunate student. "That, my dear, is an elf." He turned back toward the canvas, forcing the artist to back up a couple feet. "Furthermore, the water isn't sparkly enough, the centaur's shadow is too short and that pink fairy's hair is far too long and heavy to be physically plausible."

"That doesn't mean my art isn't... art!" the girl retorted, her face beat red. "What is art, anyway? Can you say that Picasso, or Pollock, or Dali did not create art, even if their unconventional and scientifically incorrect paintings made them world renown?"

Artemis sniffed. He had expected her to crumble under that last remark.

"Humanity isn't well known for its judge of beauty."

The young woman's face softened a little, which for some reason irked him. "So do you find nothing beautiful?"

The genius frowned. "Of course. That painting, however, is not one of them."

"Art doesn't have to be beautiful," she replied, calmer now. "It just has to provoke feeling or a new line of thought from the viewer."

"Are you a work of art, then?" Artemis asked, almost sweetly.

The student started, her cheeks blushing a deeper crimson. "What? I mean... what?"

"Because you make me _feel _slightly suicidal, and make me _think_ about how much I deplore public colleges."

Any softness in the girl's face stiffened at the insult. "Well, _you_ make _me _feel homicidal, and make me think of how much I hate stuck-up, egotistical, deluded, repressed-"

Artemis's conversational companion was interrupted by a ringtone coming from his pocket. He casually took out his customized cell phone and flipped it open. His heart skipped a beat.

In red, Gnommish script, Holly's name lit up the screen.

"Excuse me, but I must take this," he bowed slightly, then walked briskly away.

"What is it, Holly?"

"Bad, Artemis. That's what it is. Very bad."

Artemis smiled genuinely, though his next remark was a touch cynical. "'Bad,' Holly? What have I told you about that adjective? You can't conjure up anything more colorful?"

"I could- come up with _much _ more- 'colorful' adjectives, Mud Boy- but now isn't the time."

A line formed between Artemis's thin eyebrows. "You sound breathless, Holly.

"Well, yeah," she replied sarcastically, "I just got ran out of both a Council meeting and Commander Kelp's office."

"Ah. Still bitter about you dumping him, is he?"

"Lay off about that, Artemis. But yes, it certainly seems that way. He won't even consider the severity of what I've found."

"Hold that thought, Holls. I'm going to call you back on my secure line." Artemis closed his phone and followed the hallway he stood in to a back entrance. Once in the alleyway, he turned the ring on his right hand towards his palm and folded his middle three fingers like a child playing on a make-believe telephone. This activated the omni-sensor in the ring's gem, reading Artemis's phone history and selecting the captain's number. Holly picked up halfway through the first ring.

"It all began a couple weeks ago," she began without prompting. "I was doing my rounds in the medical district when I saw a sprite stumbling toward the emergency ward. He had purple spots all over and his ears were slightly droopy, the signs of a common fairy ailment. His other symptoms, however, were far from normal. He was coughing up blood and had open sores on his neck and chest, wounds that his magic should have taken care of. He was extremely fatigued and was in constant pain.

"I assisted him to the ER and asked the leading physician if there had been any other cases of the kind before. He said they had had four other fairies with similar cases come in the same week."

Artemis frowned. "Do you think it's the beginning of an epidemic?"

"I thought of that, too, and alerted Troub- er- Commander Kelp immediately. He took it seriously at first, ordering strict quarantine of all the affected patients. However, when a week passed and no new cases arrived, he dissolved the investigation."

"Was it a mutation of the original virus?"

"How did you know it was a virus?" Holly asked incredulously.

"Come now, captain," the genius cracked one of his trademark grins. "You know you'd be disappointed if I didn't."

Holly sighed, causing radio static. "He and the doctors decided it was an allergic reaction to the virus, which is impossible because I looked up their medical records, and they've all had the disease before. It's like the human cold; untreatable, but previously unfatal."

Artemis swallowed. "'Previously'?"

There was silence for a beat. "Yes. the patients- victims- all died in the last three days, all in pain."

"What about the autopsies? Is poison a reasonable cause of death?"

"The only abnormality in their blood was the virus, unmutated, and the patients died of different ails. One suffocated, one died of liver failure, one from brain failure, and two from the heart just... quitting."

"Hmmmm, this is quite an enigma," Artemis mused. "Where do I come in?"

"Well, I managed to get a blood sample from the sprite I helped- mostly from my own coat- and I was hoping you could look into it."

"Foaly can't do it?" the Irish man smirked.

"He told me, and I quote 'Not unless he was a cyborg with nano-robots for cells.'"

Artemis grinned. "So helpful, that centaur." Then he sobered. "Biology isn't my area of expertise, but I do have some experience on DNA and cell regeneration. I'll see what I can do. When are you coming topside?"

"When I have to do the Ritual, so Trouble doesn't suspect."

"And when is that?"

Holly growled softly. "At least a month. I'll try to speed it up, but as I said, we aren't getting much action down here. I'll continue to do some sleuthing and keep you updated."

"I'll hold you to that. In the meantime, I'll do some research of my own. Now, I must go. the gallery will be closing soon, and Mother will miss me."

"Tell her I said hi!" Holly chirped, and Artemis chuckled. His mother on friendly terms with the People: he still wasn't used to that.

After the dark-haired critic left, Victoria composed herself and went on with the evening, answering questions and thanking patrons for their compliments. But for some reason, she couldn't stop thinking about him. She had to admit he was handsome, with his raven black hair and endless blue eyes, but that wasn't why she was drawn to him. He was a mystery, and an extremely intriguing one at that.

_Oh, well,_ Victoria thought, looking up at her work with a sigh._ I'll probably never see him again. But whatever, it's almost time to close, and I didn't have the chance to talk to the honor board about my work, so the scholarship is out the door and I'll be sent home to the States. A perfect ending to a perfect night._

"Oh, miss! Excuse me, miss?"

Victoria jumped slightly when a hand touched her shoulder. She turned to face a beautiful woman in a light pink dress, her long brown hair pinned back with a pearl clip. She looked slightly familiar, though Victoria knew she'd never met her before.

"Sorry, ah, yes?"

"Are you the artist of these exemplary works?"

"These?" Victoria coughed in mild disbelief. "Uh, yeah... I mean, yes, I am."

"Oh good! You see, I have a hallway in my home that's a bit drab and in need of repainting. I was wondering if you would consider painting a mural on it."

"A mural? Well, ma'am, I've never actually-"

"I'll pay you, of course," the woman insisted, "and you can even stay in my home while you work on it to avoid a long commute! But this isn't the best time to discuss this. Here-" the woman handed over a small, cream calling card- "think about my offer, then call me and we'll set up a meeting to talk about the specifics."

"Ah, sure," The student replied like an idiot, a bit overwhelmed by the woman's sweeping personality. "I'll think about it."

"Good." The woman smiled sweetly at her, checked her watch, then looked around distractedly. She muttered something about a Greek goddess before walking off.

Victoria shrugged, looking down at the card in my hand.

"Angeline Fowl," it read, "Humanitarian and lover of the arts. Wife of Artemis Fowl Sr."

_Oh, that explains the goddess statement,_ Victoria thought off-handedly before reading on. Underneath her curious job description was her address and phone number.

"She lives in a manor," She noted aloud, eyebrows raised. If she lived in a manor, she must have money, and the payment she got from the project would at least postpone impending financial doom. However, something about the familiarity in Mrs. Fowl's face made Victoria think that taking the job offer would put her in over her head in more ways than one.

"But you're still going to take the job anyway?" Victoria's best friend back in Arkansas, Charlie, asked incredulously. Charlotte Mancinelli, or Charlie for short, was her voice of reason in most situations, the person she always went to first for advice.

"I didn't say that," Victoria replied, switching her cell to her right hand and stretching out on her dorm bed. "It would just solve a lot of problems, is all. I mean, the honor board's not going to give me enough money to cover dorm, books, and class, and I've been looking for a job."

"Will she give you enough to cover all of schooling?"

"I dunno. She looks pretty loaded."

"What was her name again?"

"Ah-" Victoria read the calling card aloud "-Angeline Fowl." She heard the faint sound of clicking keys on the other side of the line.

"Let's see here," Charlie mumbled, scrolling through Google results. "Oh! Here we go: Angeline Fowl. Humanitarian, renown for giving to charities. Wife of Artemis Fowl Senior, who was apparently a criminal in his younger years, but now he's a humanitarian, too. They have three sons, and did extensive remodeling to their house seven years ago."

"Why would anyone document when they remodeled?" Victoria asked.

She could almost hear Charlie shrug. "I dunno, maybe they're stalkers interested in that sort of thing. You're right, though. She could put you through college with her pocket change."

"Yes!" Victoria's heart swelled with excitement. "This is awesome!"

"Vik," Charlie said with a sigh, "are you sure? I mean, her husband has a _criminal record_, and who knows how messed up their kids are. Are you prepared to live with them?"

"Charls, this offer shows up on my lap right after I lose a major scholarship. Do you think that's a coincidence?"

"No," she replied slowly, "but you do tend to read in to everything. A _lot_. Pray about it, OK? Have you talked to your mom?"

"I will pray about it, and Mom said it was my decision," Victoria rebutted, a bit miffed.

"She also didn't know Mr. Fowl is a reformed criminal. Be careful, hun."

"Fine, I will." The friends exchanged a few more pleasantries, then said good-bye.

Victoria flipped the white card between the fingers of her left hand, sighed, and checked the time. 10:04 pm. _Well_, she mused, _I might not take the job, but I can at least meet with the woman to learn the specifics. _She flipped open her phone, read the card, and dialed the number.

"Hello, this is the Fowl residence," Artemis sighed testily into the phone. He deplored having the family's landline connected to his study, but his mother was on a "normal family" streak, which for some reason involved giving every family member ample opportunity to answer the phone. This time, apparently, it was his pleasure.

"Oh!" stuttered a tenor voice from the other end of the line. "This is Victoria Bering calling for Angeline Fowl. May I speak with her?"

Artemis thought the voice sounded familiar, but the name did not, so he did not pry. Instead, he replied, "But of course," then hit the PA button which broadcasted to the family room, where his parents would be watching Animal Planet.

"Mother, someone is calling for you."


	3. Striking a Deal

The next morning, Victoria's eyes skimmed over the _McGluffin's Family Restauran_t menu, but she looked right through the words. The restaurant clock said it was twenty-five minutes after nine. Five minutes till the scheduled meeting time. She scanned the semi-crowded room, filled with dark green tables and booths upholstered with forest green faux leather. The lighting was low and yellow, bright lights unnecessary because of the natural light flooding through large windows. Families conversed comfortably at their tables: mothers wiped jam and gravy off of their children's faces, and fathers scolded their sons when they yelled suddenly or stuck their fingers up their noses. The place was filled with laughter, and smelled not only of coffee and biscuits, but the sweaty, clean, complex smells of people. Victoria smiled to herself, then sobered, remembering her own family stateside. She loved attending school in Ireland, but she still missed them-

"Good morning!" Mrs. Fowl slid gracefully into the seat across from Victoria, today wearing an olive green blouse, tan skirt, and long, white coat with faux fur ringing the hood and cuffs. Victoria blinked. Mrs. Fowl had actually color coordinated with the _restaurant_.

After ordering coffees, Mrs. Fowl turned expectantly to the American.

"First, tell me a little about yourself," she smiled charmingly.

"Ah, OK," she stammered, "Like what?"

"Well, where do you live?"

Victoria proceeded to tell Mrs. Fowl about her life in Arkansas, her parents and five younger siblings, her experience in Ireland, and her dream to become an animator.

"You have some high ambitions, Miss Bering," Mrs. Fowl observed. "My son is the same way, though your driving force is a bit more... understated."

"Um, thanks?"

"No no no, it's a good thing." She smiled brightly again. "So, you want to know more about my proposition?"

Victoria smiled nervously. "That's why I'm here."

Mrs. Fowl smiled in return. "I would like a mural in the hallway leading off of the main foyer in my house. We did some- remodeling a few years back, and even though we repaired it, there were murals there that could not be reproduced. However, when I saw your artwork-" she grinned, exposing perfect white teeth "- with your magical and detailed style, I knew you'd be perfect for the task."

"I don't mean to sound prude, but... what does it pay?"

"Oh, I know all about your financial situation, Victoria. May I call you Victoria? Please, call me Angeline."

"Yeah, sure, but how do you know my-"

"I had my son look you up after you called me. I only wanted basic background, but he is very- thorough. I'm sure you looked up my family?"

Victoria shrugged, preoccupied by this ambiguous "son" who had sifted through her past. "Sort of."

"Well, I assure you, Victoria, whatever you have heard, you will be safe in my house. You will want to stay there if you take on the project. Our estate is a bit isolated, so it would cost you a small fortune in bus tolls."

"With Christmas vacation coming up, staying somewhere other than the dorms would be ideal," the student conceded, taking a sip of coffee.

Angeline nodded. "In that case, you'll be on the second floor in a guest bedroom. I'll have it tailored to meet your needs before you come."

"Oh, Mrs. Fowl-"

"-Angeline-" she interrupted politely (only she can interrupt politely).

"-Angeline, that really isn't necessary. I'm not even sure if I should take the job and just go home."

Angeline met Victoria's eyes with a gaze that was chillingly familiar. Where had she seen it before? So calculating, so annoyingly confident- "As far as pay, my offer is 50,000 euro."

Victoria nearly dropped her cup. "I'll take the job!"

Angeline smiled. "I thought you might."

Artemis stared at the computer screen, studying the Facebook picture on the monitor.

"Why not just send her a friend invite?" Butler suggested good-naturedly.

"She's not a friend, she's an intruder," the genius commented. "Besides, you know I don't participate in these ridiculous social networking websites."

"Because God forbid if you were to make any friends."

That comment stung faintly. Artemis looked up at his bodyguard, and Butler smiled kindly.

"I'm doing research so I can be prepared for any problems she might cause."

"And what have you learned?"

"Well, her Internet persona is very outgoing, in an arrogant and passive way." The Irish heir steepled his fingers. "However, when I talked to her in the gallery, she was guarded and extremely nervous."

"You _did_ attack her artwork."

"I am referring to before my just criticism. She is cool under pressure, but even that is a façade. I expect on the inside she is afraid and doubts herself."

"So she's not a threat, then?" Butler asked, a bit disturbed by his ward's calculating stare. He wondered if Artemis psycho-analyzed him on a daily basis. Then he relaxed; Artemis knew if wanted to know anything about his bodyguard, all he had to do was ask.

"No," the genius admitted, closing the Internet window and leaning back in his chair. "In fact, she seems quite boring. When are you picking her up?"

Butler rolled up his sleeve to reveal a titanium, army-style wristwatch. "In two hours."

Artemis nodded and sighed, turning back to the papers of chemical compounds and textbooks on world diseases on his desk. "Well, I'd better get onto my real work. Signal me when you arrive."

Butler nodded, but his principle did not look up to catch the gesture, already immersed in another puzzle.

"You are _so lucky_." Jenna reiterated for the thousandth time as she and her twin helped Victoria pack. "Living large in a mansion, getting paid fifty G's! You do know that's three times as much as the scholars' board was giving out, right?"

"Yes, you told me already. Who got the scholarship, by the way?"

Joseph shrugged, peeling pictures off the walls. "One of Laurent's students."

"Ugh," Victoria grunted, hefting a packed, cardboard box onto a metal cart. "Like she needs any more hot air for her ego... how are you guys paying for college next semester?"

"We're getting a part-time job, like you!" Jenna chirped.

"_A_ part-time? Singular?"

"We offer the work of two for the price of one," Joshua explained, taping shut the box he'd been packing. She took the box from him.

"That's legal?"

"Our employers don't complain," the twins replied in unison. Victoria raised her hands in defeat and smiled. "When does your ride get here?"

"At two." She looked around the emptied room. Victoria had been issued a single suite and, despite the loneliness, managed to make it feel like home. Now, with its white cinderblock walls, simple geometric furniture, and closed window shades, it felt like a cell. She backed out into the hallway to the cart with all her boxes on it. She wrung the handlebar nervously. "It's ten till. Let's go."

By the time Victoria managed to maneuver the precariously stacked cart onto the elevator, through the main lobby, and out into the parking lot, a black, fancy car was already in the fire lane waiting for me. A large, bald man in a black, tailored suit wearing reflective glasses stepped out of the car.

The twins took several steps back upon seeing the giant.

"V-Victoria..." Jenna whispered,

"I think the Agents have come for you." Joseph finished. Victoria swallowed hard.

"Miss Bering?" he asked in a deep Irish bass.

"Oh, that's me!" She jumped, as if coming out of a trance, and began pulling the heavy cart painstakingly toward the car. The tall man took control of the cart and steered it effortlessly to the vehicle's trunk, as if he were pulling an empty wagon.

"Ah, thanks," She murmured. She followed him around the car to help him move the boxes into the trunk.

"You can go ahead and get in the car, miss." He informed her.

"No thanks," Victoria replied, not looking up at his face. "It's my stuff, I'll help move it." The man grunted, but didn't object.

After they loaded the last box and he closed the trunk, Victoria waved at Jenna and Joseph, declaring it safe to approach.

"We're gonna miss you," Jenna said as they group-hugged. "Come visit us, k?"

"Yeah. And you call me."

"Definitely," Joseph smiled, his brown eyes sparkling. "Well, we'd better let you go. We'll take the cart back for you. Jenna, jump on."

Jenna hugged Victoria one more time, then folded herself onto the cart, holding onto the sides tightly as Joseph sprinted the cart back toward the dormitory, whooping all the way. Victoria smiled, then slid into the car through the door held open for her.

The drive to the mansion was majorly awkward, at least for the college student, since she had never been driven by an official chauffeur before. After driving in complete silence for fifteen minutes, she had to break the silence.

"So, um, sir," Victoria stammered, "what's your name?"

"Butler," he replied.

She wondered if he had misunderstood. "Mr. Butler?"

"Just Butler is fine."

"Oh." He didn't misunderstand, then. "My name is Victoria."

"I know, Miss Bering."

_I shouldn't_, she thought to herself, squirming in her seat. _This guy is huge, like, bigger-than-an-adult-gorilla huge. I shouldn't say anything even remotely patronizing. _But Victoria couldn't hold back an amused smirk as she remarked, "Just Victoria is fine."

She thought she heard him huff a chuckle, but couldn't be sure.

He didn't talk to her for the rest of the car ride.

After about an hour, the Bentley took a turn down a newly-paved, but obviously private, back road. Roused from a light slumber by the sharper turn, Victoria leaned forward in her seat, knowing their destination must be close. Butler reached into his pocket and fiddled with something, but she didn't ask what. It wasn't any of her business, and she wanted him to like her.

There wasn't much in the way of scenery; this particular part of Dublin had few trees amid the large, ripe fields of crops and grass. In the distance, however, Victoria saw a stone wall surrounding a large compound. Of what was inside the walls, all she could see were the roof and buttresses of a large structure. Her heart pounded in her chest. _This is only a job_, she reasoned, but for some reason it felt like an adventure. Victoria held her breath as the car pulled up to a wrought iron gate, which opened automatically after Butler waved at a camera perched on the outer wall. The wall was at least two meters thick, but for some reason the manor's security measures didn't make Victoria feel any safer.

Butler drove down a long drive into a circular driveway. Victoria's jaw hung open; the grounds were gorgeous. The manor itself was fairy tale worthy, made of dark grey stone and cherry wood, purple accents emphasizing the door and windows. The dark hues of the house were belied by the lighter colors of the lush gardens surrounding it. There was a fountain out front and were those... peacocks?

Butler was already out of the car, and the guest scrambled out behind him before he could unload all the baggage.

"You're finally here!" Victoria recognized Angeline's voice and turned. Mrs. Fowl hugged her as if she were a visiting relative. "I have your room all prepared. Please, dear, let Butler and Juliet get your things." Puzzled, Victoria looked over to see a blonde girl, a bit older than herself, carrying three boxes without breaking a sweat. Her eyes widened slightly. _Who are these people?_

Victoria managed to retrieve a backpack containing her more personal items before following Angeline up to the porch. The hostess opened the tall, heavy oak door and entered into the great beyond, and though Victoria knew she had to follow, she hesitated. The security cameras monitoring her from the top of the door didn't help. Her chest thudded painfully.

"You'll be fine." A deep voice reassured her. Victoria looked up at Butler, who was so tall that he blocked out the sun.

"Really?" she asked with a weak smile. "I've never done anything on this scale before."

He didn't reply, but the ghost of a smile gave her enough confidence to step across the threshold and into the unknown.


	4. We Haven't Officially Met

Artemis sat back from his desk with a heavy sigh, sweeping a hand through his raven hair. He had been researching in his study for two hours, but had come up with depressingly few results. However, Artemis Fowl the Second does not depress easily, nor does he overlook any evidence.

After scouring Foaly's databases on fairy illnesses and epidemics from 5000 BC to the present and finding no diseases even remotely close to the symptoms Holly described, he had moved onto human diseases. Perhaps a human was trying to exploit the fairies by giving them human illnesses, planning to sell them the antidote, or perhaps a human drill or other constructional device had contaminated the People's water supply. However, these both seemed highly unlikely, as the People's water was put through several cycles of cleaning before reaching their faucets. Any human looking to spread a disease among the fairies would need a fairy compatriot, and that made the situation all the more dirty.

Artemis was speed-reading _The Mother's Almanac for Childhood Illnesses_ when his cell phone beeped quietly. Butler's signal. The Irish teen set the book aside and turned to the security cameras, sliding down in his chair and steepling his fingers. He was already testy from his lack of progress on Holly's case.

He did not like this girl's presence.

He wanted her to leave.

He had planned on terrorizing her into backing out within the first three days, but when he saw how excited his mother was about the foreigner's arrival, Artemis was forced to reconsider. Sure, he didn't like Miss Bering's work, but he had begun to suspect that his mother wanted another woman around the house, especially with Juliet going on frequent wrestling tours. Angeline didn't hire the artist solely for this reason, of course, but this was probably why she had a room specially prepared for the girl, and asked him to investigate her.

She had even kept his identity a secret. When he asked her why, she replied,

"Because, and I mean this in the most loving way possible, dear, you have a- tendency- to scare off girls your age." Artemis smiled slightly at the memory.

He hadn't been offended; in fact, he was pleased Victoria did not know of his residency there. It gave him more of an edge. He decided, though, not to reveal himself until after she moved in, to give her less of a chance to back out.

"Is the painting lady here yet, Arty-miss?" Beckett chirped, the boy's sudden appearance causing Artemis to jump. Beckett bounced excitedly as Myles commented,

"Yeth, we are most curious about the painting lady's arrival. Is she pretty?"

"I'm not sure I follow your line of reasoning." The older brother raised an eyebrow.

Myles sighed heavily, "Of courth you wouldn't."

"Who gave you both permission to come in here?"

"No one!" Beckett declared. "But we're the youngest! We can go anywhere we want!"

"Or do you want to th-tunt our natural impulseth to explore and learn?" Myles challenged.

Artemis smiled knowingly. "You want to watch the surveillance cameras, don't you?" The twins nodded emphatically, and their elder grinned and patted his lap. "Come here."

"Yes!" Beckett exclaimed as they ran around the desk and crawled up their brother's legs. "We get to help Artemis stalk the painting lady!"

Myles laughed sardonically, and Artemis restrained the urge to slap them both on the back of the head.

"Shh shh shh!" Myles declared as their mother, on the television screen, approached the door. "Here she comes!"

Artemis wanted to point out that they could neither hear nor be heard by the people at the door, but his brothers were already enthralled with the screen.

The redhead walked up to the door and watched his mother go in, anxiety plain on her face.

Painfully obvious, Artemis observed, and completely unprofessional. Off to a good start, American.

Then she looked up at the camera, and even Artemis started, forgetting she couldn't see him.

"She'th- kinda pretty." Myles mused, much like a critic regarding a play. "Thertainly has her own unique featureth, wun't you thay, Beckett?"

"I'll bet she likes bugs!"

Myles rolled his eyes at his twin, and Artemis cracked a wry smile.

Their guest looked away from the camera to the door again as Butler came up behind her, two boxes and a bag in his arms. He said something, but Artemis could not read his lips because of the angle. Whatever he said prompted the artist to enter the foyer. With a swift click, Artemis brought up the house cameras and quickly found the one he was looking for.

The intruder now walked to their mother's side, who was standing at the base of the stairs.

"Artemis, Myles, Beckett! Come meet our guest!" Their mother's voice echoed down the large halls. Even though the manor was immense, Artemis swore his mother could be heard in every room if she spoke above her usual decibel level.

"Go down stairs and see Mother," Artemis instructed, pushing his brothers off his lap.

"What about you?" Beckett whined.

"Tell her I'm busy. I have research to attend to."

"What rethearch?" Myles inquired.

Artemis glanced over at the surveillance cameras and grinned. "Behavioral analysis."

* * *

The main lobby was beautiful; Victoria had never seen a more wondrous room in Ireland. The ceiling was vaulted above huge stained glass windows depicting the Fowl coat-of-arms. The carpet was crimson, and the wood paneling and grand staircase were mahogany. The lobby was decorated with antique tables and priceless vases. Creepy portraits guarded the door. She wondered if these were the kind of portraits that hid secret rooms you could watch people from.

"This is a- magnificent room," she breathed as Angeline called for her sons. _I probably look like an idiot, so amazed by this stuff, _Victoria mused_, but who cares? It _is_ amazing!_ To prove her indifference to others' opinions, she found another security camera and stuck her tongue out at it. _Why do they have so many cameras anyway? It's like they're expecting to be invaded by a whole foreign country._

"Oh, there you are," Angeline sighed, jerking Victoria from her revelry. She was hugging two blonde boys who looked to be about five or six years old. "Where is Artemis?" Angeline asked.

"He thaid he was busy rethearching- ummm-" One began,

"-Behaving-al A-salad-fist!" the other- his twin, Victoria realized- finished.

Angeline chuckled. "All right, he'll just have to introduce himself later. Preferably with Butler present!" The mother called this last part to Butler, who was already halfway up the stairs with my stuff. He nodded briefly, then continued up the stairs.

Victoria glanced over at him, confused. _Why does the chauffeur have to be there for- Artemis, right?- to introduce himself? Is he out on parole or something?_

"Anyway, Victoria, these are my youngest sons, Myles and Beckett. Myles, Beckett, this is Miss Victoria. She will be painting the dirty hallway and making it pretty."

"Cool! Can we watch?" one perked up.

"If Victoria will let you," Angeline smiled. The boys looked hopefully at the artist.

She gulped. "I'm- not too sure if it'll be interesting."

"Every artist needth an audience," the other twin said sagely.

Victoria's left eyebrow raised incredulously. "I suppose."

"Yes!" both twins cheered, taking her statement as permission, and ran upstairs to declare the good news, possibly to their mysterious older brother.

Angeline laughed as they scampered off. "They're a handful, but I can't imagine life without them," she confided as she watched them climb the stairs. She sighed, then faced Victoria again. "I'll show you to your room. You'll want to unpack, but before that, I suggest a nap. You look exhausted."

"I am tired," she conceded.

"Right this way," Angeline placed an arm around Victoria's shoulders and walked up the stairs. "You're going to love it here. I just know it."

* * *

"Artemis, why weren't you downstairs to meet Victoria?" Angeline asked, leaning over Artemis's desk ominously. Does no one knock anymore? he wondered.

"The twins told you, I was researching."

"Yes, something about a salad-" Artemis's eyebrows raised questioningly "-but that's beside the point!" Mrs. Fowl sat in one of the leather-upholstered chairs in front of her son's desk and sighed. "Artemis, you know how important this is to me. The least you could have done was set aside your personal endeavors for a couple minutes and introduce yourself." Her gaze fell to her lap. "You made me look like a bad mother with no control over her sons."

Artemis's heart panged with guilt. He couldn't reconcile her about the control issue, but, "Mother- Mum- you're a great parent. I'm sure she didn't think otherwise."

When his mother didn't look up at him, he sighed. "I'm sorry. I should have come when you called. I know this is important to you, I just don't understand why. Juliet is here until next month, so you are not want for female company, and I could do a far better job painting the mural. Besides, I was the one who caused its damage in the first place."

Angeline nodded slightly at this, remembering what he had told her of his first fairy venture.

"It's important, Arty, because I'm trying to do a good thing. I can give to charity all I want, donate to protect our environment or help orphans, but I never see the fruits of my labor. I wanted to take charity to a more personal, and perhaps more sacrificial, level, so I invited Victoria into our home. Besides, she's got potential to be a great artist, even you can't deny that."

Artemis grunted.

"But, if you worry she will mar our great halls with her work," Mrs. Fowl allowed, folding her arms across her chest, "why don't you help her with the project? Let her do the painting and develop the concept, but give her pointers on lighting, anatomy, and the like. Does that alleviate your fears?"

Artemis rubbed his chin thoughtfully, using his fingers to hide the smile growing on his face.

"I think that will work- quite nicely."

* * *

Though Victoria's body was tired, her mind would not let her sleep. It buzzed with ideas, questions, and general curiosity, so after rolling around on the extremely plush bed for a while, she decided to begin unpacking and explore her new quarters.

The bedroom was hands-down the most extravagant room Victoria had ever lived in. The high ceiling arched up with a simple, bright chandelier hanging from its zenith. The walls were mostly a carved, dark wood, with a five-foot tall strip of patterned wallpaper winding around the room. The bed frame matched the wood of the walls, and the comforter was off-white with embroidery and lace. It was so beautiful that she didn't want to mess it up, so unpacked her Little Mermaid bedspread and folded it at the foot of the bed for future use.

The closet was walk-in and way bigger than she needed.

"It would be fun to make it into a sort of fort, though," she murmured thoughtfully, "away from all those blasted security cameras."

The restroom literally shone, with silver fixtures and a giant whirlpool tub. All of the tile and granite flooring was conservatively padded with furry rugs. She felt a little overwhelmed by the grandeur of it all, so, after she had finished unpacking her essentials, retreated inside the closet with a pillow and her laptop and logged on to Facebook.

"Hi, Charlie!" she typed into a chat box, relieved that her friend was online.

"Hey! Are you all moved in?"

"No. But I'll def. have plenty of room. Is so HUGE! :D"

"Awesome! You SO have to upload pics-"

And so they continued. Victoria missed a lot of things about America, but she definitely missed her friends and family the most. Fortunately, Charlie had a gift for making her feel like she was just down the street instead of thousands of miles away.

"Well, I better go. :(" Charlie's message blinked onto the screen. "I have to do a broadcast in an hour. Listen to me?"

"Sure! 3" Victoria replied, but her heart sank as Charlie's status changed to "offline". Separation was harder, now that she was living in Fowl Manor. It felt like she had left everyone all over again, opening old wounds of sadness and isolation. Victoria slapped herself lightly and forced a smile.

"Come on, get yourself together!" she reprimanded. She exited the closet and turned on her ipod charger/radio, cranking up the volume till her sour mood was drowned in the contagious beat.

* * *

Artemis eventually got bored of looking at the artist's closet door and went back to his normal activities. Yes, he wanted to meet her privately before dinner, so she didn't have a conniption in front of his mother, but he wasn't going to "stalk" her, as Beckett so eloquently put it. However, in the middle of mixing two (slightly unstable) chemicals at his in-study lab, drastic movements on the artist's monitor caught his eye.

"Is she- dancing?" the genius wondered aloud, pulling the safety goggles up on his forehead. He chuckled as the redhead bounced around the room, moving to an obvious beat with no sense of coordination. "She's trying, at least."

Artemis returned the chemicals to their temperature controlled unit and took off his gloves with a grin. "I do believe," he mused, "now is the perfect time to meet our new guest."

* * *

Artemis couldn't help noticing as he trekked across the length of the manor that his mother had placed Victoria as far away from his own rooms as geographically possible. When he reached the guest room, he didn't even bother to knock, but entered in complete silence, any noise he made masked by the alternative rock vibrating throughout the room. Victoria had succeeded in strewing her belongings in semi-organized stacks all over the room, and some Disney posters were sticky-tacked to the walls. Victoria danced in front of the bureau with her back to him, working on distributing her clothes among the eight drawers available for the purpose.

"I love what you've done with the place!" he called above the noise.

"G'YAH!" Victoria dropped her clothes and twisted into a mock-karate stance, her arms covering her beet red face. She relaxed slightly, lowering her arms as she identified her intruder as human. "I'm- yeah, I was just-" then she realized exactly who stood in her doorway. "Oh, G'YAH!"

Artemis laughed. He couldn't help it, she had the strangest look on her face, and her reaction was so bizarre. "You're extremely literate."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, lowering her defenses and picking up some clothes she dropped.

He chuckled, taking the liberty of turning down the volume on her ipod. "Come on, American, think about it. It's not all that hard."

Victoria stowed the clothes away and made a show of putting on her thinking face. "Hmmm... you can't be the missing son Angeline was talking about, can you?"

"I am. Artemis Fowl the Second, at your service," the genius introduced with a short bow. The American walked over and shook his hand.

"Victoria Bering. Nice to meet you, Mister Fowl." Then she went back to situating her room.

Artemis raised an eyebrow. That was it? No angry yells, no fear, no disdain?

"So, what theme are you planning on using for the mural?" he asked nonchalantly, sauntering a few more steps into the room. If she was going to pretend she was indifferent to him, he would make her constantly aware of his presence.

"Well, your mom hired me," she said off-handedly, "so I'm going to go with my strengths. Fantasy."

Artemis scoffed.

"What?" Victoria looked up from her boxes and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Well, if fantasy is your strength, I cringe to think of your weaknesses."

"Har har har, aren't we a clever boy," the artist sneered, approaching her host in a way perhaps she thought was daunting. He smirked at her antics.

"It's not my fault you can't handle criticism, madam, and I am far from adolescent."

"Well, you sure act pretty juvenile," Victoria mused. They were only a couple of feet apart now, and she had to look up to meet his eyes. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Nineteen," Artemis replied defiantly, fixing the American with his intimidating glare.

Victoria wasn't intimidated, but she had to admit she was enthralled. His eyes were a dark blue so deep they were mesmerizing (lol), though it looked like he wore contacts. Then his eyebrows twitched and she started, mortified; she had been staring.

"Well, I-I'm twenty-one." She looked away, muttering, "Weird, you're younger than you look."

Artemis wiped a finger across an empty bookshelf as he gathered his thoughts. No one had ever stared at him in such blatant fascination before. Annoyance; yes, fear; definitely, hate; constantly, but, in that moment, whether she meant to or not, she had looked at him like he was treasure.

Artemis didn't know whether to be flattered or disturbed. Either way, this introduction had taken a strange turn. He had planned on telling her of their impending partnership, but now his heart wasn't in it.

"Well, I came down here to introduce myself, and I've achieved that goal." He bowed slightly as she nodded awkwardly back. "Until dinner, I bid you adieu."

"Umm, yeah. Adieu," Victoria mumbled, but he was already gone, as silently as he had arrived.

* * *

Victoria hated meeting guys like Artemis Fowl. Guys that were so mysterious, intelligent, and devilishly handsome that she had to know more about them, even if she completely loathed them. Which was definitely the case here.

She had been able to control her emotions adequately during his surprise visit, but after the door closed behind him, she felt herself unravel.

Before she could completely spaz out, she propped a chair against the wall adjacent to the door and pulled a sock over the lens of the camera she'd (finally) spotted there. Then, she did what she always did when something happened she didn't understand: she yelled at God.

"What- the heck- was that?" she growled, her jaw clenched and cheeks hot. She paced the floor like a caged tiger, her fists shaking at her sides. "What are the friggin' _chances_? Why is he here, God? Why is this happening?"

Now, don't misunderstand; she was not angry at God. Far from it. She could practically taste the intrigue, and the adrenaline pumping through her veins was euphoric. She just tended to have panic attacks when a guy was involved.

"I mean, I don't _like_ him. He hates my art, and furthermore, is all snooty about it! But he's so friggin' interesting!" (When Victoria gets excited like this, her use of the word "friggin" increases exponentially.) "I mean seriously, God! Are you trying to teach me humility by shackling me to the most critical teenager on the face of the planet? Is this a lesson on perseverance? Unconditional faith?" she collapsed on the end of her bed, her energy spent. "I guess... there are a lot of lessons to be learned here. He doesn't have to be a drug lord or anything for this to be significant. I should just- be on my best behavior, and try to see the good in all of this." Victoria nodded and stood. "Well, I'm going to go exploring. It'll keep my mind off Artemis, maybe, and at least stop me from talking to myself." With that, she grabbed her sweater and sketchbook and headed out the door.

* * *

**Gah! I love writing for the twins. They are so fun!**

**Yes, Victoria is a Christian OC. No, she will not force Artemis to become a Christian or anything. I'm trying to keep the characters authentic, thanks. XP**

**If I go OOC, please inform me. :D**

**Artemis Fowl is not mine to own, just to cherish. YAY CORN!  
**


	5. Do You Like Waffles?

**Long chapter ho! Artemis Fowl and related characters do not belong to me. However, someone did express the concern of there being too many original characters. While there will be some to flesh out Victoria's back story, the only ones that will be heard from consistently are Charlie, Jenna, Joseph, and the new bad guy who has yet to be introduced. So no, my OCs will not take over the Artemis Fowl universe. :D**

**ACTION!

* * *

**

"I am completely lost," Victoria sighed, running a hand through her wild, red hair. She was standing in a crossroads on the west side of the manor, each possible hallway to travel down dark and gloomy, with heavy curtains pulled over the windows. "Wow, Victoria," she mumbled to herself. "Way to go, getting lost in a house on your first day. Maybe if you're lucky, they'll find your shriveled, starving remains before the rats eat you." Then, she spotted a dim ray of light from under one of the doors. She opened the door to reveal a staircase, then tip-toed down the steps and into a candlelit room. In the middle of the room sat the muscular blonde, sitting cross-legged on a yoga mat. She turned her head toward Victoria before she could make an escape. "Yes?"

"Oh, I'm sorry for interrupting-" Victoria stammered. This girl was kind of scary, her lean muscles accentuated by the flickering lights.

"Naw, it's OK," the blonde grinned, pulling her leg over her shoulder and pointing to a mat outside the circle of candles. "Park it here."

Not knowing what else to do, the American sat and watched the lithe woman stretch through some more forms, then fold herself back into the criss-cross position.

"I'm Juliet." Juliet said abruptly, holding out her hand.

"Ah, I'm Victoria." She took the hand and Juliet shook it with an iron grip. Victoria couldn't hold back a wince. "Ow..."

"Sorry." Juliet withdrew and stretched some more. "I'm a pro wrestler, and I hang out with a bunch of macho guys. Sometimes I forget most people aren't as strong as me."

"Oh, sure," Victoria murmured, looking around the dim room. Even in the low light, she could make out the rows of dumbbells, the wall of mirrors, and- were those- medieval weapons? Awesome. "What is all this?" she asked.

"Oh, just our training room." Juliet shrugged.

"'Our'?"

"My brother's and mine. The Fowls don't use it much, and Myles and Beckett aren't allowed down here."

"I can't imagine why-"

Juliet chuckled at the American's deadpan. "So, have you met Artemis?"

Victoria sighed. "This house pretty much revolves around him, doesn't it?"

"It's necessary, believe me. That boy can get into so much trouble-"

A sequence of beeps sounded over the intercom.

"They have an intercom?" Victoria muttered to herself.

"That means dinner," Juliet informed her, blowing out all the candles. "Come on, I'll show you the way to the dining room."

* * *

Artemis raised an eyebrow as Victoria and Juliet entered the dining hall together.

"A little female bonding, Juliet?" he commented, folding his napkin in his lap.

"Yeah. I think she and I will be great friends. So be nice." Juliet gave the young genius a pointed look, then went into the kitchen to help Butler bring out the dishes. Victoria joined Artemis and his mother and brothers, taking the farthest seat away from him as possible. He smirked.

Dinner began without a hitch; Victoria did not speak unless spoken to and kept her gaze mostly on her food, though Artemis could tell from her facial expressions that she was paying very close attention to everything being said.

_Right_, the genius thought,_ she's good with one-on-one confrontation. But how does she react in front of an audience?_

"So, when are you planning on starting your assignment, Victoria?"

The redhead jumped slightly, straightened, and looked in Artemis's general direction, though she addressed her response to the whole table. "I already have, actually. Just some preliminary drawings, but I'm quite excited."

"Oo, what kind of drawings? Can I see them?" Angeline asked, intrigued.

"Well, they're just scribbles right now," Victoria replied, blushing at having been put on the spot. "But the basic jist is similar to my other paintings." She tilted her head in Artemis's direction again; "I should be done with the final drawing in a few days."

The Irish heir grinned his disturbing grin, but Victoria had already turned her attention back to her food. Her indifference was somewhat infuriating.

"Wonderful!" he applauded. "That gives me time to finalize my business deals with executives in Moscow. Then I can give the project my sincerest efforts."

The American looked up at him almost fearfully. He smiled. _There_ _we go_...

"What project? A, uh, a science experiment, or something?"

"Oh, didn't Mother tell you?" Artemis fixed her with his piercing gaze. "After I expressed my doubts about your abilities-"

Butler, who stood behind his principle, scowled. "Artemis-"

"-Mother made me overseer of your little enterprise."

"Overseer?" Victoria asked in disbelief.

"A _consultant_." Angeline corrected, looking sternly at Artemis, "who will be respectful, only help when he is asked, and always look to you for a final judgment." Mrs. Fowl turned to Victoria. "He knows the manor better than anyone. If I thought he would hinder your work, _which he won't_, I wouldn't have suggested it."

Victoria nodded, her face blank. However, Artemis saw the hunch of her back and slack of her shoulders, and knew he had won. He grinned.

"Thank you for dinner," Victoria said quietly, standing and taking her plate with her. "I'm going to go work on some more designs."

Angeline waited for Victoria to leave before turning to Artemis and sighing. "Really, Artemis? Must you torture the poor girl?"

"I only told the truth, Mother," Artemis said calmly.

"It's Mum, and I know exactly what you're doing." She wiped her mouth and stood to leave. "I want you to apologize, and to be at least affable. Honestly, Artemis. How can you be so intelligent and so inept all at once?"

Angeline departed, leaving her son shamed and upset that his mother had effectively stolen his victory.

"Oooooo," Beckett said, playing with his food and catching his twin's gaze out of the corner of his eye, "Arty got _schooled_."

* * *

At around midnight, Artemis' conscience finally nagged him into submission, and he went looking for Victoria so he could apologize. He checked her room and her closet first, but she wasn't there. Then he listlessly wandered the manor, hoping he wouldn't find her so he could tell his mother he tried and not lose his dignity in the process.

Unfortunately, he found her in the library, curled up on a love seat with an afghan wrapped around her. She was scribbling on a sketchpad, and a cup of coffee steamed on the end table beside her.

"What are you working on?"

Victoria jumped, then glanced up at him as he walked into the light of a solitary lamp, contempt obvious in her eyes.

"Do you _have_ to do that?"

"I asked you a question first, I believe."

She sighed. "I'm working on the design for the wall. Just some sketches... I can't seem to settle on a good composition."

Artemis shifted his weight, then stretched out a long, thin hand. "Do you mind-?"

Victoria held the sketchbook closer to herself. "I'd rather work out this problem on my own, thank you. I can handle criticism, but I take my job very seriously and to be honest- I don't trust you."

Artemis smirked in gentle approval. "You don't need to. But know that I'll do anything that will make my mother happy, and, believe it or not, sabotaging this project would cause her great distress." He tried to smile benignly. "So rest assured, I will do nothing to harm your precious mural."

"Wow," Victoria murmured. "Who would think that an Ireland's Most Wanted hopeful would be a momma's boy?"

"Thank you, you're too kind," the genius said sarcastically, dropping his guise.

Victoria chortled. "That tone fits you well, Richie." As she let down her guard, Artemis reached forward and snatched the notebook.

"Hey!"

"These actually aren't half bad," the Irish heir said to himself, looking over the scribbles as the American protested, trying to grab at his jacket but being obscured by the blanket around her. "Sure, there could be a bit more variety, and balance over on this side..."

"Give it!" Victoria yelled. Then, realizing what he was saying, she faltered. "What? Where?"

Artemis tilted the pad toward her. "Right there, see? You've got way too many small creatures, and they are all positioned in one plane. But if you moved them over here, perhaps experimented with perspective-"

"I could even play with warping perspective, having the characters leak onto the floor or ceiling." Victoria mused aloud, her eyes lighting up with inspiration. She turned to Artemis, a wild look on her face. "Is that possible?"

Artemis stroked his chin thoughtfully, not looking up from the drawings. "The floor is carpeted, but the ceiling in that hallway could be painted on, it's not too expensive."

"Man, that would be so sweet!" Victoria's enthusiasm drew Artemis's gaze, and she smiled at him. "Thanks!" she chirped, then added, a bit bashfully; "Look, I'm sorry if I was rude earlier. I can be a bit careless in what I say, and I overreact sometimes, too. When we work together, I'll do my best to give your opinions equal consideration with my own."

"That's not really true, though, is it?" Artemis corrected her, switching into prodigy mode. "Even if you considered your ideas rubbish, you are still biased-" he caught the American's bewildered look and coughed. "I accept your apology," he acquiesced. "I, too, apologize for my- rude behavior."

"I know." Victoria shrugged, reaching out to retrieve her sketchbook. "And I don't accept."

The genius frowned, and pulled the sketchbook from her reaching hands. "What do you mean, 'you know'?" Victoria managed to catch on to one side of the book before he retreated, and held on. "And- you don't accept? How can you not-"

"I know because you wouldn't have come looking for me unless your mom sent you, and she only sent you to apologize," she grunted, pulling back on the notebook, "And I don't accept because you believe everything you said in the dining room today. I could ask you to apologize for your snideness and general lack of social prowess-" she strained harder as Artemis leaned back, putting more force into their strange tug-of-war, "-but since I suspect you've always been this way and- always will, what's the point of making you apologize?"

"What gives you reason to call me socially incompetent?" Artemis growled.

Victoria snorted, her forehead beading with sweat. "Look at what you're doing."

He finally took in the absurdity of the situation and, with a small grimace, released the book. Victoria, still pulling on her sketchpad, fell back against the sofa.

"Oh yeah," she grunted, "that was much more mature."

Artemis snorted softly and straightened his tie. He looked condescendingly down his nose at her, but a small smile pulled at his thin lips. "It will certainly be interesting working with you, Miss Bering."

Victoria grinned maliciously. "Yeah. Fun times."

He nodded and left, his footsteps not making a sound on the carpeted floor as he melted into the darkness.

"Dude," Victoria whispered, trying to still the frantic pounding of her heart. "He has _got_ to teach me some of his ninja skills."

* * *

"Any progress, Artemis?" Holly piped up after twenty minutes of dead air. The genius jerked from his revelry to look over at his fairy communicator propped against a stack of almanacs. His fairy friend was eyeing him dubiously from the screen.

"I'm fine, Holly. Just a bit frustrated, is all." Artemis ran a hand through his blue-black hair. "Every time I think I've got a pin in this disease, an unusual symptom comes into the mix and obliterates my hypothesis."

"It can't be a mix of different diseases?"

"That is, in fact, very likely, but do you know how many human diseases have fatigue or headaches as one of the symptoms? Hundreds, even thousands!" Artemis turned back to the computer screen. "I want to be sure that it isn't a single illness before making things even more complicated."

Holly huffed at the irony, causing static to skitter across the airways. "Since when do _you_ not want anything to get complicated?"

"Since there are potentially hundreds of fairy lives on the line." Artemis leaned forward till his face was blue from the light of the computer and began typing furiously into a search engine. "I'm not a child anymore, Holly. This isn't a game."

He sped-read through the results of his search for a few minutes, then sat back from the computer monitor with a sigh. "Well, that covers all the Asian diseases. Nothing."

"Maybe you should take a break. Relax," Holly suggested.

"No, I can't, I promised her I wouldn't bother her."

Holly's eyebrows shot up like released rubber bands. "What?"

"Nothing. I, ah," Holly was still the only person he stammered around, "I told my mother I was finishing some business with a Moscow CEO. She doesn't know I'm helping you."

The elf gave him a look to show she didn't buy it, but she could tell there was a measure of truth to his words.

"Artemis, you really shouldn't lie to your mother. I'm sure she would let you help if she knew how important this was. Besides, no one is blowing up or sending you into wormholes this time."

Artemis chuckled, smiling so that his incisors shone, and Holly grinned, happy to see him smile.

"I'll call you back in a bit." Artemis said.

"Good," Holly nodded. "I get off work at moonrise. Call me then, k?"

Artemis nodded and shut off the communicator with a conflicted sigh. He wished he could get farther with this case, but his hands were tied until Holly gave him more to work with, or arrived with the blood sample. He hated to admit it, but more victims would substantially further his investigation. Unfortunately, if the disease was an epidemic as Holly feared, soon he would have more evidence than he could handle.

Artemis felt like he was in a bad American crime show.

"Done already, Artemis?" Butler questioned, entering the room with a tray of crackers and caviar.

"Just a brief hiatus, old friend," the young heir smiled tiredly. "Captain's orders."

"Ah," the bodyguard smirked, laying the dish on the desk.

"How is our guest doing?" Artemis asked off-handedly, reaching for a cracker.

"Good, I suppose. She's been in her room most of these past two days. Have you decided not to spy on her?"

In actuality, the girl had obstructed her camera with a cloth of some kind, but Artemis only nodded as he chewed. He had only seen Victoria Bering at meals recently, and she was beginning to skip those as well. Artemis wondered if she really was taking the project as seriously as she had promised... and here he was, eating caviar.

Artemis set his snack aside and, with a slight flourish of his fingers, turned back to his computers. Butler wanted to ask what happened to his ward's hiatus, but Artemis had a determined glint in his eye that the butler knew better than to interrupt. He went to go brew his employer a pot of tea: it was going to be a long night.

* * *

Neither Artemis nor Victoria arrived at dinner that evening. After sending the twins with Juliet to get ready for bed, Angeline went to check on them, half expecting Artemis to be terrorizing their guest.

To her relief, she found Victoria sitting at the desk in her room, Christian rock blaring and a pot of coffee sitting within easy reach. The artist did not even look up as her employer opened the door, so Mrs. Fowl receded quieter than she had entered, not wanting to interrupt her concentration.

Artemis also sat at his desk, his fingers flying over the keyboard at 186 words per minute.

"Still finalizing those deals, Artemis?"

"Yes, Mother," Artemis replied, looking up with a genial smile, though his jacket was slung over the back of his chair and his shirt disheveled. "The CEO demanded some revisions to the program, and they are proving to be a bit of a challenge."

"Ah, honey-" Angeline circled the desk to hug her son. The monitor streamed with lines of code and computer jargon. "You are so gifted," she kissed him on the forehead. "I can't make sense of any of this. Well, I'll leave you to it." She walked to the door, then called back, almost as an afterthought, "Keep it legal!"

Artemis chuckled sarcastically. "Sure, Mother," he said, closing the pages of code to reveal his research on the screen. "Will do."

By midnight, Artemis had finished trawling through African, South American, and Viking diseases, as well as breaking into government files on developmental drugs and viruses that even the United Nations didn't know about. No matches.

Frustrated, Artemis turned his attention from the computer screen to his stomach, which had been complaining for the past four hours. Stacking his empty teapot, cup, and saucer on a tray, he crept down the dark halls, his steps measured and sure from many late-night trips to the kitchen.

When Artemis arrived, however, the lights were on and Victoria was standing at the counter to his right, mixing something.

"So we had the same idea, huh?" Victoria said, only jumping a little when Artemis entered this time, setting his tray next to the sink.

"Everyone requires nourishment." Artemis said simply, opening the kitchen's huge, stainless steel refrigerator. He smiled slightly at his brothers' artwork that decorated the doors.

The redhead shrugged and turned back to what she was doing, her cheeks burning in frustration and embarrassment. She was only trying to be nice! Were all rich boys so self-centered and snobby? Victoria heard Artemis sigh, glass clinking, and the refrigerator doors close. She frowned, trying hard not to turn around and see his reaction. It was none of her business. _He_ was none of her business, and the less she got involved, the less he would-

"What are you having?" This time Victoria did jump, nearly spilling the bowl of batter she held. She glanced over her shoulder, but didn't turn, to conceal her embarrassed blush. "Ah, I'm making waffles. I noticed you guys had a waffle maker, so-"

"I see. So that is what that machine does." He gestured to a squat, cylindrical device behind her. "I should have guessed..."

"You mean you've never used it?" Victoria turned toward him and gaped, still stirring the batter.

"I had never _seen_ one before this morning. However, it looks new, barely two days old, in fact. Mother hasn't gotten around to removing the price sticker yet, and it bears no marks of my brothers' antics."

"Ah." Victoria stared into her mix for a beat. "Do you want one?"

Artemis met her green gaze. "Excuse me?"

"Do you want a waffle?"

"No, that is fine, I wouldn't want to trouble you-"

"We both know that's a lie." Victoria gave Artemis a lopsided grin that made him want to smile, too, so he frowned instead. "I made too much mix, anyway. Besides, are you really going to eat cold, day-old duck with caviar on rye?"

"I was going to microwave the duck." Artemis looked down on his meager ingredients, then back up at her indignantly. "Very well, I will have your 'waffles.'" He rolled up his sleeves as he walked over to the art student. "What do I need to do?"

"Well, ah..." Victoria stammered, looking away from Artemis's bared, pale arms. "I couldn't find any condiments, and those measuring cups need to be cleaned so we can measure the batter to put in the cooker."

Artemis nodded, leaning around her for the plastic measuring cups. He turned toward the sink and deftly turned on the faucet, then bit back a curse when the hot water burned his hand.

"You OK?" When there was no reply, Victoria put down the bowl and wiped her hands off on a washrag. "Um, where is the peanut butter?"

Artemis poured some dish soap in the largest measuring cup. "Peanut butter?"

"Yeah, I put it on waffles."

"That isn't the way Americans usually eat waffles, is it?" Artemis smirked, his back still toward her as he washed. "Don't you 'smother them there waffles with syrup with a square 'o butter on top?'"

Victoria scowled at his perfect Southern accent. "Don't you Irishmen 'wear ye old kilts wit' out the undies and drink till ye pass out in the pubs?'" She retorted, hands on her hips.

Artemis looked over at her then, and the sarcastic, disarming smile he gave her wiped the frown from her face. "Point taken." He dried off the dishes and set them on the table. "The peanut butter is in the third cupboard from the right, by the all-natural bread."

Victoria breathed in, trying to still her nervous heartbeat. "Do you want me to grab some syrup, too? For your waffles?"

"No, thank you." Artemis replied, his gaze on his hands as he dried them on an apron. "I'll try them the weird American way."

* * *

Holly called Artemis the next morning, her hair wild and her mismatched eyes angry.

"You didn't call me last night."

"Who are you, my wife?" Artemis asked, a wide smile across his pale face.

"Who are you, an idiot?" the elf shot back, folding her arms over her sleeveless, blue tee. It was her day off, so she decided to help Artemis all she could with his end of the investigation. He wasn't making it very easy.

"Why are you smiling?" she asked grumpily.

"I finished going through all the single diseases in the past and known world."

"And-?"

"Nothing. But at least thousands of possibilities are ruled out, and I started a database of all diseases containing any of the symptoms you described. I added fairy diseases as well. Then, I re-calibrated the search engine's code so that when the symptoms are entered, any combinations of diseases meeting all the parameters of the entry will appear on the screen. The combinations containing both a human and fairy component are tagged to appear at the beginning, since these compounds will be most likely."

"Smart, Mud Boy." Holly allowed, "but why are you so happy?"

Artemis's brows flat-lined. "Holly, this makes my job infinitely easier. Sure, I'll still have hundreds of potential solutions to go through, but at least we are on the right track."

"Something like this is expected from you, Arty. If you think this is some great achievement, you're losing your edge." Holly noticed something behind him on the desk. "What... are those?"

"Oh, ah-" Artemis brought them closer to the communicator screen so Holly could inspect them. "Waffles. Dreadfully interesting cuisine. It is made like a pancake, but tastes more like French toast."

"And you eat it with peanut butter?" the captain grinned, knowing she was on to something interesting.

"My brothers eat them with peanut butter, and they introduced me to the trend as well," Artemis replied defensively. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"Artemis, you've been glancing over at the security monitors like you're spying on Soviet Russia. You can either tell me what's up, or Foaly can have a go at your security system."

Artemis grimaced. The _last _thing he needed was Foaly tormenting him about girlfriends again. It seemed every time a female human of a certain age entered the manor, the centaur accused Artemis of being romantically involved with her. "Fine." He set the plate of half-finished waffles aside.

The genius told the fairy everything: about the artist living in his house and their general disdain for each other, about his mother's order to be nice, and his and the American's impending collaboration. He told her how puzzling the American was, and though she was quiet and unsure, she had a whole other side to her that was confident and snide.

"I don't know which façade to believe, Holly," he confided.

Holly smiled knowingly. For once, the Mud Boy had _normal _problems. "Just believe how she acts when she's around _you_. She's uncomfortable in crowds of people she doesn't know, but it sounds like she feels safe around you. When she's with you, she is most true to herself."

Artemis raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Very professional, Holly. How do you know all this?"

"Victimology 101. Sure, the Mud Girl's not a victim but," Holly winked at her friend, "she might as well be. I'm more surprised that you didn't figure this out yourself, genius."

"I don't like to judge situations in which I am involved. My opinion inevitably colors the result."

Holly nodded. "So, she's the one who got you hooked on waffles?"

Artemis shrugged. "Last night we got into an argument about the importance of emotion in art. She thinks there is no art without emotion. I think that even with emotion, a poorly executed piece is worthless. She stormed out." He shrugged again. "At 9:30 this morning Butler comes in with the plate of waffles and a message from Vi- Miss Bering- saying that she is sorry for being so rude. Really," Artemis rubbed his temples, "that woman makes it so difficult for me to stay legitimately mad at her."

Holly smirked at the hopeless Mud Boy. "Well, it looks like you have your work cut our for you in that quarter. Let's get back to ours, shall we?"

"Agreed," Artemis sighed, glad to get back to the safe haven of diseases and intrigue.

He turned back to the computer program's new search engine and entered the long list of symptoms, including the multiple causes of death. Finally, his pinky tapped the return key, and a split second later, a list of disease combinations filled the screen.

"How many are there?" Holly asked with bated breath.

"Four-hundred seventy-two." Artemis informed her. Holly whistled.

Then, Artemis's eyes grew wide, making the fact that he was wearing contacts apparent.

"What Arty? What is it?"

"There are four-hundred and seventy-two possibilities, but only five of these, starred with a red asterisk, contain all of the symptoms entered."

The LEPrecon captain laughed nervously. "Isn't that a good thing? Narrows down the search?"

"They all contain the virus you described, and one of the most dilapidating diseases that humans have not yet found a cure for." He looked over at the elf, his eyes glassy and piteous and burdened. "Cancer, Holly. Someone has cultured a fairy variant of cancer."

* * *

**Merry Christmas and a happy holiday season!**


	6. Falling for You

Victoria sat back from her sketchbook and sighed contentedly, smiling at the finished work before her. Yes, her stomach sank when she considered having to present it to Artemis, but she personally thought it was some of her best work.

Victoria had measured the hallway to be about twenty-seven feet long and twelve feet high. After hours of research, making sure all the creatures were true to the folk tales and drawing each of them several times, she sketched out a few compositions, bearing in mind what Artemis had said about variety and perspective. The final sketch was 13.5 by 6 inches, and displayed a lush, Irish plain in the moonlight, the illumination creating cool highlights and deep shadows. In one corner, a leprechaun counts his bounty of gold, a pooka watching him enviously from behind an oak tree. A grogoch fills some buckets with water at a spring off-center. A banshee in its young form sings nearby, and lazy merrows in the pool swim to shore to listen to her woeful music. Closer to the viewer, eight-foot centaurs gazed up at the night sky, directing the audience's attention to the multitude of stars- or were they fairies? A dark, ominous dullahan was in the far background, just a silhouette in the pale moonlight.

There were still blank or unfinished areas of the mural that she needed Artemis's advice on, but over-all she was sure that the painting would be a success.

"But what if he doesn't like it?" Charlie pointed out when Victoria called later that evening. "It looks amazing from these photos, and probably even better in person, but hun, you told me how critical this Artemis guy is about your artwork. You gotta be prepared for him to completely hate it."

Victoria nodded, absentmindedly making small improvements to her pencil drawing.

Charlie inhaled suddenly, then chuckled. "Speaking of whom, the elf over here looks a lot like him."

"What?" Victoria started.

"Yeah, in the right hand corner," her best friend persisted. "The one with black hair and a cynical look on his face."

The redhead frantically scoured the page for a familiar face, then did a double take. "Wait. How do you know what he looks like?"

She could practically hear Charlie shrug. "I looked him up online."

"Oh, I see what you mean..." Victoria growled, finding the offending elf and erasing him entirely. "Now what do I put here?"

"Oo! Oo!" Charlie piped up, "Whatever it is, make it look like me!"

"I think I'll make it a goblin." The artist sneered mischievously.

"Ah, you're no fun."

* * *

It was the fourth day, the day Artemis had said he would be done with his deals, and the day Victoria had promised to be finished with the drawing. She had replaced the Artemis-elf with a goblin, though Victoria told herself it still looked like him. She got up early that morning, wanting to present it to him right away and get it over with. She walked the length of the manor to his rooms and reached out to knock on his study door. _Is it too early? _she wondered. _I don't want to intrude while he's in a bad mood, then he definitely won't like it. Did I fix that tree branch? No one else would spot it, but he would. _Her heart sped up; she began to panic. _He's going to hate it. He's going to hate it and I'll have to start all over again! _She looked down at the sketchbook in her hands, but could not bring herself to open it. _I'll just- fix it. I'll fix it and come back. _With this half-hearted reassurance, Victoria clutched the sketchbook to her chest and half-ran back down the hallway.

Bursting into her room, she ran over to her desk and threw the book in a drawer. She was not proud of it anymore. But now that she was alone, and the stress was leaving her, Victoria had the sinking feeling that she was selling out. Everything was about making _Artemis_ happy. Victoria frowned, not liking this notion. She would not compromise her style for him, of all people, when they had such different views concerning art. Victoria opened the drawer and took the sketchbook from its depths. No, she would show this to someone who deserved to see it, someone who would appreciate it, before throwing her hard labor to the dogs.

Artemis' hand clenched slightly on the table as Victoria ran from his study's threshold and back to her suite.

"It's because you intimidate her, Artemis," Butler said softly from behind his principle, who was giving a death glare to the security monitors. "She's not showing her drawing to you for the same reason you are not going to the Fairy Council with your findings." Artemis' jaw tightened as Butler continued, "You're afraid of being laughed at and told you are mistaken."

"I'm not mistaken!" Artemis hissed. "The data simply doesn't make sense any other way! However, the prudish Fairy Council will not believe anything which will cost them money, so before I report to them I must have irrevocable proof."

Butler nodded slowly. He had had his run-ins with the Fairy Council; a snobbish bunch of tight-pursed, loose-lipped fairies who would go along with world destruction if it would line their pockets. After the death of Commander Root and Commander Vinyaya, the Council took an even more revenue-based turn, and rarely did any good anymore.

"Still, I can see your point, Butler." Artemis resigned, standing and straightening his Armani jacket. "I can be a quite intimidating figure, and I have not been exactly propitious in my opinions of her artwork. Right. I will confront her. Butler," he turned heel to face his bodyguard. "The fairy communicator is in the first hidden compartment of my bureau. If you would, please keep it on your person and answer if Holly calls. I feel I will be otherwise occupied today."

Butler was not worried that his employer was planning something devious by his ambiguous statement. True, oftentimes when Artemis spoke so mysteriously it meant trouble, but sometimes, like in this instance, the genius spoke eloquently in order to hide his intentions to do something normal, even nice.

* * *

"I love it!" Angeline Fowl grinned up from her sitting position at her desk.

Victoria smiled sheepishly at her boss's approval of her work. "Th-there are still some things I want to improve, and I was going to run them by Art-Mister Fow- your son, but I thought I'd show it to you first."

Mrs. Fowl gave the younger woman a knowing smile. "Well, even my son cannot deny the artistic mastery of this piece. I can't wait to see it finished. When are you starting on the wall?"

"Today." another voice declared from the door. Victoria jumped, berating herself mentally as Artemis sauntered into the room. She really needed to get used to that.

The raven-haired youth rotated her sketch toward himself so he could appraise it. After a brief moment, he nodded with a sniff.

"Some aspects of the piece need to be discussed," he mused, well aware of his mother's presence, "but the composition is well executed and engaging. I have an Artograph Super Prism set up downstairs. I was hoping we could finalize the design and have pencil lines on the wall by tomorrow morning."

Victoria gaped like a fish as Angeline clapped excitedly, "Wonderful! Just don't work yourself too hard, darling." She laid a hand on the artist's arm. Victoria nodded dumbly, following Artemis's lead as he walked nonchalantly from his mother's reading room.

They walked in silence down the manor's dark wood halls, the light streaming from fifteen-foot windows doing little to help the tense mood. Finally, Artemis said over his shoulder, "You can drop the charade. No one else is watching."

"Excuse me?" She raised an eyebrow at the genius's straight back.

"Your 'innocent and humble' façade." Artemis gestured slightly with the sketchbook he still held. She wanted to snatch it back. "We both know you are not so benign and meek in private."

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"Ah! There it is." Artemis pronounced triumphantly, turning and walking backward to continue the conversation. "There is that snide, sarcastic side. Tsk, tsk, Miss Bering. You never would have spoken so in front of my mother, yet you show such animosity toward her son?"

"Because I respect your mother," Victoria muttered under her breath.

"Excuse me," the heir frowned, stopping in his tracks and forcing Victoria to stop with him. "Would you like me to make the rest of your stay here more torturous than Sheol?" His eyebrows rose and eyes were half-lidded in indifference, as if he had just asked if she'd like some lemon water.

Victoria fought the urge to roll her eyes. "No."

"Then you will respect me _and_ my opinion." He pivoted and began walking away, taking such long strides that she had to jog to keep up.

She gritted her teeth. He wanted her to drop a façade? Fine. She stretched an exaggerated smile across her mouth. "You want some fries with that order, sir?"

"Ah, American humor," Artemis sneered. He stopped again, so abruptly she almost ran into him.

"OK, Artemis, I give up." Victoria swung her arms up in surrender. "What's this really all about?"

"Respect!" Artemis replied. "And trust! If you are going to live in my house, there will be no secrets."

Victoria was genuinely confused now. "What secrets?"

Artemis fell silent, studying her for a moment. He had just assumed that Victoria had known how contrarily she was acting, and that she was doing it to serve some ulterior motive. Now, noticing her blank face and quizzical eyes, he realized that that was just... how she was. _A dual personality? _He wondered, briefly remembering Orion before pushing his unicorn-loving alter ego to the back corner of his mind.

"Besides," Victoria continued when Artemis gave no answer, "if anyone has secrets around here, it's you!" The genius's heart rate elevated uneasily.

_Don't assume anything... _Artemis warned himself. "Do you have something to say?" he asked slowly.

"Just that, if you are going to keep secrets from me, you can't just order me to respect and trust you!" she reasoned, her train of thought unraveling. "Those have to be earned, even if you are some rich big-shot."

Artemis watched her for a moment, staring at her with his deep, blue orbs until she began to feel uneasy. Then he sighed. She knew nothing of his secrets, and so this conversation was moot and tiresome. Best to end it quickly.

"I respect you, Victoria Bering."

Victoria's eyes widened, but before she could inquire about his sudden statement, he had changed the subject.

"Now, even though everything is set up downstairs, some changes still have to be made to this sketch. See this fairy? The light it's giving off should affect not only this toadstool, but the reeds around it-"

"Oh yeah, I see that!" Victoria replied, aware of the sudden change of subject, and glad for it.

"And what about this blank space?"

"I was going to ask you about that-"

"Perhaps a small troll. That would be a good place for him, lurking in the shadows... wait, wait a minute..."

"What?" Victoria asked nervously. Every muscle in her body tensed for the rejection to follow. Artemis pointed at the lower right hand corner. "That- does that goblin have my face?"

Victoria blinked twice, relieved, then looked away from his accusing gaze, embarrassed that he had noticed her bit of revenge.

Artemis closed the sketchbook with a sniff and a sharp snap. "I'll get you back for that."

Victoria blushed, but covered it with a lopsided grin.

* * *

Victoria listened attentively to all of Artemis's advice, and even took most of it, though the advice she didn't, such as the width of a fairy's wing or the color of a pooka's skin, annoyed him.

"If you just did it my way, it would look more professional," he insisted.

"If I did it your way," Victoria countered, "I would be doing a mural of DNA chains."

By about three in the afternoon, the artist had made all of the necessary compromises and was allowed to start drawing the guidelines on the wall.

"Do you want me to help?" Artemis asked slyly, holding his pen like it was a deadly weapon.

"No!" Victoria called down from the top of her ladder. "I don't trust you not to change something." Artemis laughed mockingly at this, then went back to his artist's catalogue, calculating how much supplies for the mural would cost, and how much of that cost he could take out of the American's paycheck. Over the better part of the next two hours, Victoria traced out the lines projected by the SuperPrism, and Artemis half-heartedly tried to thwart her. Since she was up on the ladder he didn't have to try very hard to make her nervous, and he wasn't seriously trying to sabotage her, anyway.

"What are you doing?" Victoria growled at him, noticing him hovering around the ladder.

Artemis frowned. "I am not a petty teenager, Miss Bering, nor am I evil. I was simply trying to check on your progress, but you lean annoyingly close to the wall, making it hard to see anything."

"Well, I'm not leaning back." she whined. "No friggin way."

"Come now." Artemis said sternly, "I need to see if you're doing it right!"

"I'm tracing lines!" she yelled. "How can I mess that up?"

"You are American." Artemis deadpanned.

Victoria huffed and rolled her eyes. "You know what? Fine." She leaned back a foot away from the wall, and Artemis took a step forward to scrutinize her work.

Now, Victoria usually didn't scare dramatically, but heights made her anxious, and she was kind of paranoid about Artemis taking his ingenious revenge. So when she felt the vibration from Artemis's foot hitting the metal frame of the ladder, she jumped in surprise, her shoes leaving the stair just enough to miss the step coming back down. Victoria's breath caught and stomach sank as she felt herself fall backward.

"D'Arvit!" Artemis said under his breath, his mind weighing all of his options in an instant: if she fell and was injured, not only would he feel horrible, and he would have to pay for any hospital bills she might obtain. Also, his mother would give him that disappointed look of hers, and he couldn't have _that_ on his conscience. Best case scenario: Victoria fell, was uninjured, and never told anyone, but Artemis could not to take that chance.

At the last moment, the Irish heir hopped backwards under the falling woman and reached tentatively up, catching her under the arms. Her momentum inevitably toppled both of them over, the impact transferring any injuries she might have sustained onto him. Victoria was still for a moment, her brain trying to compute why she was seeing black fabric under her hands. Then, realizing the fabric was Artemis' jacket, she rolled off of him, gasping with shock.

"You- owe me one." Artemis panted, struggling onto his elbows.

"What?" Victoria gasped, appalled. "You were the one who kicked the ladder!"

"It was an accident! Besides, I caught you, didn't I?" Artemis shot back, indignant. "Which was no mean feat, by the way-" Victoria opened her mouth to reply, then her eyes widened as she noticed something over his shoulder. But before he could ask her what was the matter-

"Artemis, LOOK OUT!" Victoria grabbed hold of Artemis's sleeves and, hooking her left leg under his right, heft him onto herself as the ladder he had lay directly in front of teetered due to Victoria's fall and came crashing down.

Artemis blinked at his sudden change in position and he lifted himself up halfway, his hands on either side of the artist's head, his longer torso and her short legs putting his right knee between her knees as he rose into a crawling position.

He looked down at her, still dazed, and she looked up at him, apparently in the same mental state. Artemis' eyes narrowed slightly. He had never been this close to her before, and now, adrenaline pumping through his own system, he was aware of every feature. Her breathing was heavy, a vein pulsing in her neck from the adrenaline rush the previous incident had provided. She had freckles; some of them faded with age, others dark and new. Her jawline was strong and square, and her nose had a cleft in it; probably a family trait, passed down from the mother's side. The crimson carpet set off her green eyes, the pupils of them ringed with orange rims, as if looking down a volcano.

Victoria blinked twice, as if coming out of a trance, her breathing more regular.

"I guess- we're even." She smiled a small smile.

The corner of Artemis's mouth twitched into a smile as well. "I believe so."

She folded her arms over her chest and looked away awkwardly. "You should get up now."

He nodded in emphatic agreement. "Right-"

"Eeeeeee!" Shrill screams came from the mouth of the hallway. Both of the young adults' heads whipped toward the sound. Myles and Beckett stood staring at them, their mouths agape in surprise. Artemis' mouth went dry. Even though the situation getting them into this position was innocent, he realized now what it looked like.

"Myles, Beckett," he began soothingly, "it's not-"

"ARTY-MIS HAS A GIRLFRIEND!" Beckett exclaimed, as disbelieving of the news as he was triumphant. With another short squeal, the twins barreled down the adjoining hallway.

Artemis glanced back at Victoria, and she returned his gaze, eyes half-lidded with disdain.

"This is your fault," she said simply as the two scrambled up and sprinted down the hall after Artemis' brothers.

* * *

Though Artemis and Victoria eventually caught the twins and insisted that they were in no way romantically involved, the boys remained unconvinced, and followed the two around for the remainder of the evening. Victoria was fine with this: she liked children- though, to be honest, Myles kind of creeped her out. Artemis was irritated that his brothers thought they could interfere with his affairs, even if said affairs were apocryphal.

"And what's that one?" Beckett asked, jumping and pointing at something on the wall. They had returned to the mural hallway, the suspicious twins following behind.

"That's a leprechaun." Victoria smiled at the boy, then frowned at his older brother, who was chuckling to himself. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Artemis smiled, regaining his composure. "Please, continue."

"Disregard our brother," Myles said with a short wave of his hand. "He is not bery- _socially_ inclined."

This time Victoria laughed, and Artemis hit his sharp-tongued brother over the head with a newspaper.

"Children! Oh children of mine!" a sing-songy voice called. Mrs. Fowl appeared, covered from head-to-toe in strings of lights, tinsel, and other Christmas ornaments. Juliet trailed not far behind, holding a camera. "I know you are busy, Victoria, but come, boys! It is time to put up Christmas decorations!"

"Christmas?" Victoria's stomach dropped. She had been so busy stressing about school and her new job that she had forgotten. She whipped her head toward Artemis. "What day is it?"

"The twentieth of December." He informed her, then smirked. "Did you forget?"

"Completely!" she replied, covering her mouth with her hands as she realized the severity of her ignorance. _I haven't bought any presents or called my parents or... bought presents _for _my parents! Now, even if I sent gifts by express mail, they would never get them in time! _She ran a hand through her wild hair, pulling on the tendrils painfully. She was such an idiot. How could she forget _Christmas? _Well, now she had something else to stress over.

Without another word, Victoria ran down the hall, past Mrs. Fowl and up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Mrs. Fowl looked over at Artemis questioningly, and he held up his hands, declaring his innocence. "I simply informed her of the date."

Mrs. Fowl frowned slightly, then, remembering their impending task, was all smiles again. "Come on, boys! Your father will be back on the twenty-third, and we want the house to be all festive for his return!"

Artemis groaned as his brothers cheered. He wasn't a Scrooge, but Artemis Fowl had better things to do than decorate for an over-commercialized holiday.

"Fine, Artemis," his mother said, hearing his guttural complaint. "If you see to Victoria, then you are excused from beautifying the house."

As his younger brothers whined in protest, Artemis weighed his options. "Well, the initial plan was bearable until you used the term 'beautifying,'"- Angeline rolled her eyes- "so I'll go cheer up Miss Bering." He grinned playfully at his mother as he walked by. "A couple doses of Effexor, and she'll be right as reign."

"Arty-mas, take care of your girlfriend, k?" Beckett shouted after him.

Artemis turned sharply and pointed at his brothers, ignoring the quiet laughter of his mother and Juliet. "Silence, foul beasts."

* * *

Grove Pits's fingers flew across his keyboard, his elven eyes scrolling through the windows of data on the many monitors in front of him. Pits was a recent expellee of the University of Biological and Psychiatric Sciences in Haven, but he had continued his... research... despite his expulsion. He grinned toothily at a graph marked "Cancer Reception Rates," and entered a few more figures in a document called "Project Disease Data."

"So?" a high, raspy voice asked from behind him.

"All of the newest tests were successful, sir." Pits grinned, bringing up another window riddled with formula. "The changes you suggested not only destroyed the cancer cells postmortem, but killed the test subjects rather effectively."

"Excellent, Pits," the voice cackled. Pits could imagine his partner rubbing his hands- or rather, paws,- together diabolically. "How much longer till we can execute our plan in full?"

"Well," the student brought up several other pages of figures. "Judging by my data, we still need to do a few more tests, and work on the antidote, since the changes to the virus would have altered its potency. Also, we are running out of cancer cells. I have enough for about five tests and the antidote studies, but for the actual plan we'll need far more. I can clone some, but I'll need cells from a fresh subject."

"That can be arranged," the voice mused. "Those filthy, ill-evolved humans. Even if you couldn't clone the cells we need, I would kill all the humans necessary to go through with my plan."

"_Our_ plan." Grove corrected. "And _I've_ been doing all the killing. Killing innocent fairies. What have _you_ done to-"

"DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY!" The squeaky voice grew to a loud boom, and Grove winced. "I WAS THE ONE WHO CAME UP WITH THIS PLAN! ME! AND I WAS THE ONE WHO GOT YOUR MISERABLE ELVISH BUM OFF THE STREETS! SO DON'T YOU DARE BACKTALK ME AGAIN."

Grove nodded, close to tears now. "I'm sorry," he whimpered. "I'm just confused, is all. Testing the disease is all fine and good, but I didn't sign up for murdering fairies. When are we going on to the humans?"

"In time, my- dear- Pits." The voice cackled, calm again. "When we have amassed our army, and the humans are ripe for the killing, then we shall take our revenge."

* * *

**So, my first cliche moment, which was effectively ruined by Beckett and Myles. Can anyone say adorable? I friggin love writing for those two.**

**Please R&R. Artemis and constituents are belonging to Eoin Colfer, the genius of all things fairy. Grove Pits is mine, though, as is Victoria and her friends. :) Thanks!  
**


	7. Mulch does not Help the Matter

**Artemis Fowl and Associates (c) the writing God that is Eoin Colfer. (I'm a ginger. So if I eat Eoin Colfer's soul, does that mean I technically own Artemis? :D)  
**

Artemis knocked on the door to Victoria's guest room, then leaned toward it to receive a response, or any proof that she was aware of his presence. He heard a loud sniff, then,

"Come in."

Artemis opened the door, but did not enter the room. "Are you certain?"

Victoria was on the bed, her laptop on a pillow on her lap. She wiped her eyes vigorously, then looked sideways at him and grimaced. "I guess not."

He nodded. "What are you doing?"

"E-mailing my family. Telling them that my gifts will be a couple- weeks late." She sniffed again. "I feel horrible. How could I forget Christmas? It puts one's life in perspective, you know?"

Artemis leaned against the door frame, thumbs in his jacket pockets. "I suppose."

"This is- my first Christmas away from my family," she said. Her voice grew softer as she continued. "They would have put up the Christmas tree weeks ago. And hung lights all over the house..." Her eyes glassed over again, and she looked down at her hands, "and that really weird light-up jalapeño in the kitchen. I-"

The boy genius shuffled a bit. He might have been a prodigy, but he was still a man, and men, as a rule, hate seeing women cry. Remembering his psychology, Artemis tried to turn Victoria's train of thought down a happier route.

"How many people are in your family?" Artemis asked.

Victoria smiled through her tears. "Eight, including myself. I'm the oldest of six." She stared into the distance. "The youngest is- ten now." She shook herself and rubbed her eyes again, then closed the laptop and turned to Artemis.

"So, what did you want?"

"When are you going to go shopping for them?" Artemis asked, ignoring her question.

Victoria raised her eyebrows at him, but answered. "Later today, hopefully. I was going to call Joseph and Jenna to come pick me up."

Artemis nodded, muttering to himself. "Five days to Christmas... so that would mean about 7,000 kilometers..."

"What?"

"Nothing. But since you have some time before they come, why don't you come decorate the house with my family? I know it cannot compare with your own family's endeavors, but-" Artemis faltered, for Victoria was grinning at him, pure joy spreading from her smile into her eyes. It was the most genuine smile she'd ever given him.

As if realizing how obviously excited she was, Victoria swallowed her joy and nodded. "Thanks, Artemis, that would be awesome." She jumped off the bed and walked over to the doorway. Feeling a bit more like herself, as she passed by she said smartly, "Maybe you aren't such a snob after all."

Artemis covered his mouth with a hand, feeling slightly light-headed. Was he getting sick? "You- are a complicated woman." he growled, not necessarily an insult. Victoria turned again and grinned at him. Artemis frowned back, feeling his chest pang once.

"I think you win the contest for being complicated." She laughed, making a comical sight, her puffy, red eyes juxtaposed against her smile. She ran ahead down the stairs, and Artemis followed behind at a walk, rubbing his chest under his dress jacket.

"I need to take an anti-acid," he decided.

* * *

After finishing decorating the Fowl Manor, Jenna and Joseph picked up Victoria and they went to George's Street Arcade to search for her last-minute Christmas gifts. To Jenna's acute interest and Joseph's dismay, she could only talk about one subject.

"Then, Artemis set the manor up with its own radio frequency!" Victoria situated the shopping bags in her hands and caught her breath, "and he rigged the lights to sync to any song he put into the system! I'm going to upload the Hamster Song into it sometime, just to mess with him."

Jenna laughed, but Joseph, walking on the other side of his sister, just sighed and pretended to window shop, even though they were in the women's clothing section of the arcade.

"Joseph, are you OK?" Victoria asked. "You've been awfully quiet."

"Well, you've just been talking a lot about that 'Artemis' character. I thought you asked us to shop with you to get away from that snob, not to talk about him constantly."

The American grimaced. Joseph's animosity was well placed. At the beginning of the evening, when the twins had come to pick her up, the whole Fowl family (except Butler) had come to the door to greet them. Artemis talked to Jenna rather cordially, but when it came to Joseph, his attitude did a complete 180. Artemis looked Joseph over, then gave one of his signature smirks.

"Kerry folk coming all the way to Dublin? Well, I admire your ambition, trying to fit in in the big city, but after three years of failing, boyo, one would think you'd get a clue."

Joseph opened his mouth to object, but nothing would come out. Everything Artemis had said in such a derogatory tone had, in a way, been true. Joseph and his sister did hail from Kerry, and they had been there three years. Artemis had also managed to touch on some of the twin's personal concerns, and Joseph hated him for it.

Artemis had given his opinion in low tones, so only Joseph and Victoria heard (Jenna was talking with Angeline and Juliet). Victoria elbowed her host for his rude comment, then announced it was time to go.

"I'll get him back at him for you later," Victoria promised, shaking off the memory, "and even video tape it, if you like." Joseph smirked a little, but did not smile, so she continued, "And I'm sorry I've been talking so much about him- I've just been spending a lot of time with him, is all. He's- not so bad once you know how to handle him."

"And _you_ know how to handle him?" Joseph grinned sarcastically.

Victoria buried her face in her scarf. "Sort of." Then she perked up, as if recalling something. "Speaking of whom," she said ponderously, "I still have to get him a present."

"Why?" both twins asked in unison, Joseph louder than Jenna.

"Because this is part of 'handling' him," Victoria answered defensively, "I don't think he- gets a lot of presents, or positive attention. So anything nice I do for him helps my job get that much easier."

"So there is no- ulterior motive?" Jenna raised an eyebrow conspiratorially. Joseph rolled his eyes, but looked intrigued as well.

"Well, yeah, I guess..." the twins leaned closer as Victoria looked into one of her shopping bags resignedly. "I already bought gifts for the rest of his family, and I cringe to think of the torture he would inflict on me if I forgot him on purpose."

Jenna pouted, disappointed, but Joseph finally broke into a genuine laugh.

The trio tried several stores in the arcade before coming across the types of items that Victoria were confident would suit Artemis or, in some cases, definitely _wouldn't_ suit him. Soon, the twins were in on the game, choosing ridiculous wigs and trinkets to give the all-business heir.

"What about these?" Joseph held up a pair of neon jogging shorts for Victoria's speculation.

"That's perfect!" she joked, lifting a pink handbag with "feel like a WOMAN" printed on the side. "It would go great with this purse!"

"And this lipstick!" Jenna giggled, adding a dark red tube to the collection. "It's totally his color."

"Totally!" Joseph and Victoria agreed, and all three burst out laughing.

"Wait a minute guys, wait-" Victoria choked through giggles as the "Bad Boys" song emanated from her pocket. "It's him! Shhhh-" she flipped open the phone, putting her free hand over her other ear to muffle the sound of rush-hour shoppers.

"Hola!"

"Ms. Bering, this is Artemis Fowl, though you no doubt deduced this from your slightly offensive Bob Marley ringtone."

Victoria blanched, and her friends, seeing her paler expression, ceased in their giggling.

"Anyhow, I called to inform you that, despite your Christmas oversight, you are still on a schedule. So if you would take a break from joking at my expense, you are need back home- here- as soon as possible."

The American was shaking now, looking around desperately for security cameras. Had he hacked the street mall's system?

"How did you-"

"Simplicity itself. A few days ago, I installed a camera on your glasses while you were in the shower. You really shouldn't your door unlocked while in the bath."

"Why you li- I don't leave the door unlocked-" Victoria sputtered, reaching up to yank off her glasses.

Artemis chuckled irritatingly. "No, don't take off your glasses, Ms. Bering, I am not serious." She wished she could strangle him through the phone. "I know of your actions because you just confirmed them, and if you do not want me to hold it against you, you should start taking your occupation more seriously."

Victoria sighed, rolling her eyes at her waiting friends to show her disdain. "Fine. I'll be back in about an hour and a half. Can you survive without me for that much longer?"

"It will be a stretch," Artemis played along, "but we shall wait with bated breath until your return."

"Jerk." she replied. Artemis laughed and hung up.

* * *

Artemis disconnected the call with a chuckle, even though it had not been his idea to phone the American in the first place; his mother had insisted on it (Angeline wanted _some_ of the mural done by the time Artemis Sr. returned), though he did not know why Angeline did not ring Victoria herself. The young genius had barely noticed the artist's absence, having holed up in his study, working feverishly on a cure for the impending epidemic.

The more he studied what little Holly was able to give him, the more he feared that this case was much more complex than it appeared. The disease was a hybrid of the fairy cold and cancer, he was sure of that, but now he was wondering whether the illness was specific to fairies, or if it could be transferred to humans. If a human caught the disease, it could result in a plague worse than the Black Death.

Thankfully, the cases Holly told him about did not seem to be contagious. However, if the disease was being specifically manufactured, as Artemis feared, that could be remedied. So, for both the humans' and the fairies' sakes, Artemis was working on a cure for cancer, to take care of the deadlier half of this new strain. Artemis had worked on cures before, of course, but they were always side-projects. Besides, his specialty was in physics and electronics, not in medicinal biology. Now, though, the genius decided it was time to finish what he'd started.

"Whatcha working on, Mud Boy?"

"Holly," Artemis smiled genuinely, looking up from a petri dish. "I needed to see a kind complexion. I'm working on a cure for cancer, but it isn't as easy as one would initially assume. There is a reason why many of the greatest minds on earth have not yet cracked its code."

"Don't worry, Arty," she smiled, her hazel-and-blue eyes squinting prettily, "you're good at cracking things. Where's Butler?"

"I believe he is helping Juliet with my brothers. Most often they obey her every whim, but even she cannot get them to bed without a fight."

Holly laughed at the mental image, then was all business again. "Have you considered my suggestion to go to the Council?"

"Holly, you know they won't listen..."

"Yes, I know, but we've got to try." The captain bit her lip. "Another one was diagnosed today. A pixie, only thirteen years old. Where does a thirteen year old catch a deadly disease?"

"If fairy teenagers are anything like human teenagers," Artemis mumbled, focusing his telescope, "the question is; where _don't_ they contract diseases?"

"Artemis, this is serious! Fairies are _dying_-"

"I know that Holly!" Artemis interrupted in a stern voice, his eyes glassy from fatigue and stress. "I feel the weight of these deaths as heavily as you do. But going to the Council now could hinder our cause, not help it. Consider our options."

"I have, Artemis." Holly replied, her voice just as hard, "I'm sorry this investigation is so hard on you, but we have to try everything."

Artemis ran a hand through his raven hair. Even though he was able to act like his normal self around his family, the case _was_ taking a bigger toll on him than he had anticipated. It wasn't just the complexity of the illness or the lack of evidence that worried him. Lying to his mother, taking care of family affairs, and managing their new guest also weighed heavily on his mind.

"Alright," he conceded. "Go to the council. I will send you my findings, but be sure to have Foaly look over them for a fairy reference."

"Thank you, Artemis." Holly said softly. She did not really have to thank him, or even ask for his permission, but the look in his eyes told her he appreciated that she did.

"I will be there in two weeks, Arty. We can discuss the case in person, and I will give you something tangible to work with." She sighed as he smiled wanly at her. She hated it when he smiled like that; he looked so much older than his 19 years. "Artemis, I'm sorry for pressuring you to give me answers with so little evidence." She ran a thin hand through her cropped hair and exhaled out of the side of her mouth in frustration. "I mean, the samples you need are sitting right in my desk drawer! If only there were some way to get it to the surface without any- wait. D-Arvit, why didn't I think of it before?"

Artemis looked up from his tests and over at Holly, his curiosity blatant.

She grinned back at him, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Who does a fairy go to if they want something done effectively and most-likely illegally?"

Artemis grinned toothily, his canines shining in the lamplight. "Mulch Diggums."

* * *

"No way under earth, Holly." The dirty dwarf tried to shut his hovel door in the elf's face, "and don't try to coerce me by using that 'you'll get to go to the surface' excuse. You know I hate the sun."

Holly caught the door with her right foot, forcing it open again with her knee. "Please, Mulch? I need an- errand run aboveground, but I can't go until I need to perform the Ritual!"

"Then get rid of your magic faster, numskull!" he replied, pushing on the door again. Holly grunted as the course wood pushed through her civilian pants.

"I can't!" she grunted, "Gah! -you're lucky I don't have my buzz baton- Trouble's watching me like a hawk! One wrong move- and he'll suspend me!"

Mulch released his grip on the door and looked at his friend, the suspicion ebbing from his brown eyes. He sighed heavily, the thick hairs of his beard buzzing in the breeze. "That makes two of us, hotshot."

Since Trouble became Commander about a year ago, crime rate had dropped exponentially, but at a cost. Commander Kelp was extremely hard on his officers, and doubly so on the convicts. Mulch, being the middleman, got the best of both worlds; Kelp's high expectations as an LEP consultant, and his eternal distrust as a "former" criminal.

"So what's this about anyway?" Mulch asked after letting Holly in, sitting on a mound of dirt which served as a chair. Holly opted to stand.

"I need some top secret evidence sent to Artemis to analyze," she replied. "Trouble doesn't think it's important, but if I don't get this to Artemis soon so he can work on a cure, I fear it will be too late."

"Too late? Too late for what?" Mulch leaned forward.

"It's a disease," Holly said hesitantly, "and if it isn't stopped, it will become a plague."

Mulch threw his hands in the air and sat back in his dirt mound. "Why is it that every time you and the Mud Boy decide to save the world, you drag me into it? I mean, why can't I be terrified and in the dark like the rest of the fairies for once?"

Holly grinned slyly. "Oh come on, Mulch! You know you'd get yourself mixed up in it somehow, or feel left out if you didn't."

Mulch shrugged, but the elf knew she was gaining ground. "Please? I'll talk to Trouble about getting off your back, and I'm sure Artemis will give you all the Mud People food you can eat."

Mulch pretended to consider for a moment, stroking his beard and looking into the middle distance. Then he gave Holly a sideways glance and grinned. "Make the second offer a guarantee, and I'm in."

* * *

Victoria rolled out of bed at 7:40 on Sunday morning, though her alarm had gone off at 7:00. Jenna and Joseph had called the night before to remind her that they were picking her up for church at eight the next day. Getting dressed, brushed, and make-up on in record speed, she ran barefoot down the stairs to the kitchen to grab a bagel and coffee to go. When she arrived, Butler was baking what seemed to be a buffet of dishes.

"Wow, is the country of Wales coming over for brunch?" she asked, pouring creamer into her Hoops and Yoyo thermos.

Butler sighed as if he wished that were the case, but said simply in his low bass, "No."

Artemis came in next, placing his own mug in the sink. Victoria assumed this was not something he would normally do, so he was probably just checking on Butler's strange cooking assignment. Then he turned and, noticing Victoria's dark purple blouse, light make-up, and pea-coat slung over one arm, commented, "My family does not attend morning Mass, and even if we did you would not be required to attend. Or do you have another appointment this morning?"

Victoria suddenly became very preoccupied with stirring her coffee. "I- you don't?- Oh, I'm going to church with some friends. They're picking me up in a couple minutes, and I should be back around 1:30."

"That's very bold of you," Artemis crossed his arms, his eyebrows arched to show his annoyance, "to not ask an employer's permission before leaving one's commission."

She blanched. "It was late when I received the call. I didn't want to wake Mrs. Angeline, and I thought it would be all right-"

"It is all right, Miss Bering." Butler looked up from filleting a steak. "Artemis is a bit touchy in the mornings, is all."

Victoria grinned, glad to have an ally in Artemis's attack. "Oh." She gave the genius a small smile as she snapped the lid on her thermos. "Good to know."

A line appeared between Artemis's eyebrows as he glared at his butler, and Victoria tried not to laugh at the sudden turn of the tables. A buzzing sound broke the tense silence.

"That would be my ride," she announced, checking her vibrating cell phone and pulling on her coat. She pushed Artemis's shoulder lightly as she passed by. "See you in a bit."

Artemis watched her go, only slightly miffed, then turned to Butler. "Really, Domovoi," he grumbled, "you shouldn't encourage her."

"With all of the torment you put her through, Artemis," Butler smiled, "she deserves a confidence boost once in a while."

Artemis harrumphed. "Well, her absence this morning is for the best. Juliet, mother, and the monsters are going to meet father at around eleven, and if Miss Bering comes back when she says she is, Mulch should be here and gone before she returns."

"Come now, Artemis," Butler grinned, flipping an omelet, "you know it's never that easy."

* * *

Of course, Artemis's bad karma caught up to him again. Soon after his family left to fetch Artemis Fowl Sr., it began to snow heavily. This was good; it would delay their return. However, the snow did not prohibit Victoria, who arrived at the compound at half past eleven, and Mulch was still gorging himself in the kitchen and could not be prevailed upon to leave.

When they arrived, Artemis reluctantly allowed Jenna and Joseph's Audi A6 through the gates and went to the door to stall his houseguest. Drawing the the window curtains back about four inches, Artemis watched as Victoria and her friends got out of their small four-door. The male twin- Joseph, wasn't it?- exited in a bit of a hurry from the driver's side to open the door for Victoria, who appeared to be putting on her coat, and aided her by taking her purse and Bible. She climbed out, and the female twin followed her, but Joseph didn't even acknowledge his sibling. He just looked at Victoria with a puppy-dog longing on his face.

Artemis rolled his eyes. He had suspected the first moment he met the tall Irishman, but this confirmed it. Joseph was attracted to the American artist. Artemis was secretly impressed and puzzled; he did not think Victoria was capable of attracting a male so aesthetically superior to her. Then he pursed his lips, ashamed of the thought. She was not as ugly as he made her out to be. She was actually pleasant to look at, though she wasn't conventionally pretty. He shook his head of the distracting thoughts and went back to the scene unfolding on the front lot.

Victoria seemed unaware of the tall man's affinity for her, directing her attention evenly between her two friends. Finally, she took a step toward the manor, obviously wanting to get out of the cold. She gestured toward the house in invitation, and Artemis's stomach fell, but the twins shook their heads. As they said their good-byes in the foot-deep snow, Joseph embraced Victoria and talked secretively with her, touching her face with his hand. Artemis frowned. Was she romantically involved with the tall twin? He hadn't gathered as much during their last visit, but one can't make assumptions. His long fingers curled a bit more around the crimson curtains. Even so, he reassured himself, every moment the twins- or, twin- kept Victoria distracted, the more time Mulch was not in danger of being discovered. This was a good thing... so why did Artemis feel like he was sacrificing something, allowing his mother's employee to be held by another man? The nagging feeling in his chest returned, but he was distracted from it, for Victoria politely broke the hug, and was heading for the manor steps. Artemis released the curtain and straightened his jacket as the artist reached the doorbell.

Artemis unbolted and opened the large double doors for her, and she burst into the lobby, shivering.

"Man, it is _snowing_ out there!" She shrugged off her coat and hung it on a stand next to the door. Artemis noticed that her shirt collar folded back for a moment, and her top button was undone, exposing her pale skin. She had a small mole on her collarbone.

Artemis blinked twice, trying to clear his head. Just because that idiot from Kerry thought she was attractive didn't mean he had to become hyper aware of her.

"They let us out of church early because of the snow," she was explaining. "The pastor didn't want us to be stuck there, so we didn't have worship service today."

"Ah, shame," Artemis said, looking pointedly away from her, watching the snow melt off of her peacoat.

"So," Victoria raised an eyebrow at her host. "How long have you been at the window?"

Artemis flicked his gaze back to her, trying not to look surprised. She was more observant than he thought.

He shrugged. "I was waiting for you. The door is locked, so after I buzzed you in, I came down to open it for you."

"Isn't that usually Butler's job?" Victoria asked, taking her thermos from her bag and inspecting her purse to see if coffee had leaked into it.

Artemis thought for a short moment. "Butler is entertaining a private guest. I thought it best not to disturb him."

"Oh," her eyes widened, visibly surprised. "That's- very nice of you."

"Well, I may be self-righteous and arrogant, but I'm not evil," Artemis commented as she walked by. Then he realized that she'd walked by. "Where are you headed?" he asked, taking broader steps to cross in front of her.

"The kitchen. I have to clean out this thermos before it gets the chance to mold."

Artemis growled under his breath. Of course, out of all the rooms in the house- he could tell her that was where Butler and his guest were, but then she would ask why, and he couldn't very well tell her it was because it was one of the few windowless rooms in the house. That would only invoke more questions which would be harder to explain away. So, he decided to play the chivalry card. "Here, I'll take it for you. Besides, you've lost enough work-time already."

Victoria eyed him curiously, and Artemis tried to look innocently back, though such an expression did not come naturally to him. He was also finding himself noticing Victoria's more alluring aspects, which he imagined Joseph realized right away. For example, the way her bangs set off her eyes, or her straight nose and strong cheekbones. The make-up didn't help his concentration any, highlighting her alert eyes and covering her usual flustered redness and splattering of acne. The genius mentally kicked himself. It was only hormones and adrenaline. Focus!

"I don't trust you," she said slowly, trying to navigate around him.

"He likes you, you know." Artemis blurted, then stopped, surprised at himself. Victoria looked startled too.

"Who?" She asked. At least he had her full attention now.

"The Joseph boy," Artemis continued. "Surely, you've noticed."

The redhead frowned, blushing furiously through her foundation. "I- he doesn't- _like_ me. We're friends."

"Please, Victoria," he said, becoming annoyed. He hated it when people avoided the obvious. "You can't have not noticed. Whenever you are with them, he barely gives his sister a second glance. He's courteous, yes, and thoughtful, but I'll wager he's not as considerate to his other acquaintances."

Victoria clutched her thermos till with knuckles went white. "You- you know nothing!"

But Artemis was on a roll. He would make her see reason. _Make_ her accept it. "He and his sister are out of sync more often now, aren't they? Their personalities are pulling apart, and they aren't together as much when you're around. He's purposefully separating himself, so that you see him as a man, and not just part of a matched set."

She gritted her teeth, spitting out, "Stop it. You're lying, stop it!"

"Admit it!" Artemis retorted. "You've caught him looking at you when you glance up suddenly. He opens every door for you, and goes out of his way to buy you little trinkets that you mention you like in passing. Whenever you phone him, he picks up on the first ring. How can you not recognize this evidence?"

Victoria just stared at him now, fighting the truth in his words, while simultaneously realizing that he might be right.

"Of course you realize it. It's too obvious for even you to ignore." He took a step toward her, and his prey took two steps back. "Do you really assume that ignoring his feelings will make them go away? He's a Irishman, and will feel obligated to reveal his affections. What will you do then?"

Victoria continued to stare, her eyes brimming with the venom of his words, and Artemis, as the adrenaline ebbed, felt a sharp pain in his chest and wondered vaguely what he had done.

"I-" she finally said, assuming he was waiting for an answer. "I don't know." With that, the tears began to fall, and Victoria threw her thermos to the ground to hide her embarrassment. With each bounce it made across the floor, Artemis's heart clenched.

"Miss Bering-Victoria, I-"

"Forget it," she choked, then ran up the stairs to her room, smearing mascara across her face as she tried to wipe away the tears.

With a heavy sigh and a grunt, Artemis leaned over and picked up the lime green thermos and walked into the kitchen. He popped off the thermos lid, rinsed it out, and set the mug on the counter. Butler and Mulch watched him silently, the dwarf only kept quiet by the whole poached chicken shoved down his gullet. He swallowed it with a gulp and a cough, then rubbed his stomach in satisfaction. Picking his teeth with a chicken bone, he mused, "Wow, you really have a way with the ladies, Mud Boy."

Artemis smiled charmingly, but his eyes narrowed with annoyance. "I made her mad to keep you hidden, you ungrateful beast."

"Oh, so you were just playing the part of a jealous boyfriend, then?"

Artemis's smile fell and he looked threateningly down his nose at the fairy, not in the mood to be teased. "Remember who is in charge here, Mr. Diggums. I have my information; you're only remaining here under my good graces."

"OK, OK. Cool yer jets." Mulch shoved a turkey leg into his mouth so he could use both stubby arms to hoist himself onto one of the stainless steel chairs surrounding the marble island. He finished off the turkey leg, then belched. "I'm just happy to see you dating yer own species again."

"That was only one time." Artemis grumbled, blushing at the mention of Holly and the Time Paradox affair. "Besides, Miss Bering and I are not dating."

"Sure, sure." Mulch bit into a loaf of french bread. Butler smiled at the banter, further miffing his ward. Was no one on his side?

"I'm going to go start analyzing these," the genius snatched up the airtight parcel on the kitchen island. "If you need me, I will be in my study, where everything is orderly and sane."

* * *

**Sorry for the wait, guys! Life has been so busy. .**

**But yay! Chemistry! (Sort of.) And Mulch! I friggin love writing for him.**

**I know there is a bit of Artemis OOC in this chapter, but all of us change under the influence of love, though Artemis may not be "in love" yet. ^^ R&R?  
**


	8. Blackout

"So you got the package?" Holly's vaguely fuzzy image asked from the fairy held a piece of bloodstained cloth up to the lamplight with tweezers, squinting through his protective goggles.

"Yes, and our hairy friend should be on his way home soon, pirating his way onto the E1 shuttle. Really, Holly, I'm a genius-level intellect, and I can only begin to guess how Mulch Diggums accomplishes everything he does."

"You and me both." Holly smiled, then noticed the drawn look on Artemis's face. "Arty, are you alright?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" Artemis cut out a sample of the cloth and put it in a petri dish to be slid under the microscope lens.

"Well, your jaw is clenched, your eyes are wide, and your left hand is a bit twitchy. Basic Behavior 101. So what is it?"Artemis sighed, not looking up from his microscope.

"I said something I shouldn't have, and upset- someone. I was frustrated, that is all, but now I have work and I am all better."

"It was that Mud Girl, wasn't it?" Holly accused. Artemis looked over at the communicator, and the elf smiled knowingly at him. A vein in his temple pulsed testily.

"Yes," he admitted, "but I have it well in hand. I simply told her the truth, but since it has so offended her, I will go and apologize for being honest. First, however, I will test these samples and solve your case for you so you can prevent a fairy apocalypse and be a hero. Does my strategy please you?"Holly watched him with her big, elvish eyes, but did not respond."I'm sorry, Holly," Artemis said at last, pulling the goggles away from his face. "I don't mean to be a brute, but- being around that girl has made me realize how out of touch I am with the social practices of my peers, and it is having an unpleasant effect on me."Holly bit her lower lip, then gave Artemis a hesitant smile.

"Well," she chuckled, "at least you are going to apologize. I never thought Artemis Fowl would willingly apologize to one of inferior intelligence." She got closer to the screen; the nearest thing she get to looking him deep in the eyes. "You are a good human, Artemis. Anything you lack, you can learn, and you're getting better." She leaned back, checking her moonometer. "Break's over; I've got to clock in. Get me results Mud Boy!" And with one last smile, the screen went blank.

* * *

Two hours later, Artemis looked testily at a grandfather clock on the opposite end of his study. His conscience had been pestering him to make amends with Victoria ever since he'd finished his conversation with Holly, but his pride coerced him into putting it off. There was another reason that he hesitated, though, a reason that he hated to admit.

As his computers calculated and separated the data he'd compiled from the samples, he busied himself by coming up with different excuses to give Victoria as to why he had been so harsh with her. But the more he thought, the more he wondered: why had he brought up such a delicate subject? Such low tactics definitely weren't necessary to keep her from the kitchen, and he didn't care if Joseph's feelings were hurt by Victoria's naivete. Was he trying to protect her? He supposed having an emotionally confused employee would be a bit of a chore, but that was not the case either. So what was it?

Artemis pulled his fingers roughly through his hair then turned back to his research. At around four PM, Artemis's conscience roared to be avenged, and so he made his way to the mural hallway. At first he thought the hall was deserted; the light was off, and no one was in front of the mural wall. Then, he noticed a form huddled on the wall opposite the painting. Artemis flipped on the lights, and Victoria looked up at him blearily. She had stopped crying from their argument earlier, but her face was obviously conflicted.

"I was- looking for Butler," he said lamely. "What is the problem?"Victoria gestured with an arm to the mural and growled. Artemis looked at the offending wall. She had finished the lines and begun painting the background, starting with the night sky. However, in her attempt to avoid the lines she penciled in, the brush strokes were uneven and the backdrop looked disorganized.

"I call it: 'Victoria's Painting Conundrum,'" she grumbled. "It happens with nearly every painting I do; if I don't pencil in guidelines, I don't know where anything goes, but if I do, I end up painting over the lines. It's all so complicated and annoying."

"Well, the solution to your conundrum is simple," Artemis mused. "Paint the base coat, then pencil in the background elements. Pencil in each layer after the layer below it is painted, and _voila_!"Victoria shook her head and smiled wanly up at him. "See?" she said quietly, "you are smart."She rose slowly to her feet, and both stood there in silence for a moment, staring at the painting but not really seeing it."Butler went to the store," she said finally, not taking her eyes from the wall. "He said there was no more food in the pantry."

"I know." Victoria turned her head to him, confused, and he continued. "He left a note on my study door. I was looking for you." He waited for a response, but got none, though her eyes showed that she pondered his confession. When it was clear he would get no reply, Artemis continued, "I apologize for my affronts to you earlier today. It was unnecessary and unbefitting a host. I hope that you will forgive me, and forget my actions which so upset you."The artist smiled, picking up a bucket of dark blue paint and a paint roller.

"It _was_ kind of out of character for you, Artemis. OK, I forgive you, but only if you answer one question."Artemis tried not to pale.

"Of course, depending on the question."She poured some of the paint in a pan, irritating Artemis by keeping him suspense.

"How?"

"'How' what?" Artemis hissed.

"How the _heck_ did you guys run out of food so fast?" Victoria waved around the roller vaguely and Artemis took a step back so she wouldn't get any paint on him. "I mean, it's not my fault, is it? I know I can eat a lot, but I've been trying to cut back. Was it your guests? I dunno," she began to roller the paint onto the wall, "I guess I just figured that a fancy house like this would never run out of food, you know? So," she looked over at him, still rolling. "where did all the food go?"Artemis grinned in spite of himself. Either this American had a lot more tact that he gave her credit for, or she was exceedingly base. He tapped the side of his nose.

"We were simply entertaining a very hungry guest, Miss Bering. Until this evening." Victoria watched Artemis's slim form as he walked languidly back down the hall. Dark, handsome, mysterious types. She despised them. Yet she couldn't contain the blush spreading across her face as she said,

"Yeah, sure." By six o' clock, Artemis had received a call from his mother, informing him that they were safe, but Mr. Fowl Senior's plane had been delayed. The snow storm was too serious for them to drive back to the estate, so they were staying the night in town. Butler did not call, but the genius feared a similar situation had befallen his bodyguard. He rubbed his temples, staring at the spreads of paper on his desk. He had tired of the glaring computer screen, so he printed out the computer's test results. Unfortunately, the data did little but throw another wrench in the mix: though Artemis's brain told him that the disease had to contain cancerous elements, there were no cancer cells in the blood stains Holly had sent, only the fairy cold.

"Something is destroying the cancer cells post mortem." Artemis mused aloud, though he was alone in his study. "But why?And how? There are no traces of antidote, poison, or medicines in the victim's blood, though I would need the contents of the fairy's stomach to know for certain." He ran a hand through his already mussed hair, again feeling like he was on a crime investigation show. Like a typical show's main characters, he knew he was missing an obvious but crucial clue. He wished Holly would come sooner.

* * *

Victoria worked on the mural background till about seven PM before retreating to her rooms while the paint dried. She thought she was off to a good start, but to be honest, the mural's night sky wasn't the most pressing subject on her mind at the moment. She hopped onto the queen-sized bed with her laptop, sprawled out on her stomach, and logged into Skype.

"Thank GOD you're on," Victoria blurted when Charlie came into the view on her webcam. "I've had the weirdest day."Charlie sat down and leaned forward.

"Tell me everything."Victoria recounted most of the day, from her waking up to when Artemis went back to his study. She was only interrupted a few times, when Charlie told stories from her own experiences. Charlie did this a lot in their conversations; it helped her relate to what Victoria was saying.

"I mean, I know that Ar-Mr. Fowl is a- difficult guy," Victoria said upon finishing, "but I didn't peg this as his style."

"'This' meaning bringing in your love life?" Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"Or lack thereof, yeah." She blushed and bit her lower lip. "I could come up with a bunch of reasons why, but we both know I-"

"-Read into stuff? Yes, yes you do."

"Phineas and Ferb for the win!"

"YES!" Both girls had a fangirl spaz sobered first.

"What do you think?" Victoria asked when they sobered.

"About Artemis being all up in your personal life?" The redhead nodded, blushing deeper at the sound of his name, and wondering how Charlie could say it so freely. "Well, I don't know about Artemis, but Ian does this to me all the time. Even before we were dating he pointed out any guy he saw checking me out, or told me if he knew someone was crushing on me."Victoria leaned in.

"Why?"Charlie shrugged, but Victoria knew she was extremely proud of her fiancé's protectiveness.

"I'm not a psychiatrist, but I have my theories."

"Such as...?"Charlie didn't need further encouragement.

"Well, after we starting going out, he did it to show me how good he is at protecting me."

"And before you started dating?" Victoria prompted.

"About that, I'm less sure. The most believable thing I can come up with is that it was his roundabout way of letting me know he was watching me and liked me, especially since he was so against me returning the other guy's feelings."Victoria recalled Artemis's insistence that she not lead Joseph on, then pushed the uncomfortable thought to the back of her mind.

"Well, that's not why Ar- heck, why Artemis is doing it. That's what confuses me. He warns me to not give Joseph the wrong idea, but it would be more to his advantage if I returned Joseph's feelings. I would be out of the manor more, and he wouldn't have to sneak around so much."

"He sneaks around?" Charlie's eyes widened at the intrigue. The lights in the manor flickered, and Victoria looked up worriedly. They didn't flicker again, so she turned back to the screen."Oo, foreshadowing," Charlie whispered, and Victoria gave her a pointed sigh.

"_Anyway_, no, I haven't caught him in the act, but he is definitely keeping some secrets."Charlie leaned in conspiratorially.

"If it were me, I would be doing some hardcore investigating right now, not talking to me."The artist guffawed.

"Yeah, well, I want to keep my job, so I won't be snooping around." She went back to considering the situation at hand. "Maybe he didn't want me dating Joseph so I wouldn't be tempted to invite them into the manor, or maybe they have a past I don't know about- no, Joseph would have told me about it. Maybe Joseph doesn't _really_ like me, but Artemis wants me to be overly paranoid so I avoid him, hence spending more time on the mural, hence getting done and out of here sooner..."Charlie cleared her throat.

"Reading too much into it..."

"I know, but this isn't any normal guy we're talking about," Victoria insisted, almost desperately. "This is Artemis Fowl! He could be running the Irish Mafia, or hiding a friggin alien spaceship in his basement!"Charlie pulled a snarky grin.

"Maybe he has an alter ego; snobby millionaire by day, caped crime fighter by night!"

"Maybe!" Victoria retorted, then covered her face to hide the blush caused by picturing Artemis in spandex. "Augh! Bad image!" Her friend laughed, then was distracted by the chorus of Taylor Swift's "Mine" coming from her cell phone.

"It's Ian; I've got to go. Update me later!"

"Of course," Victoria smiled, still recovering from her blush. She logged off of Skype, closed her laptop, and made her way back to the mural hallway, her head reeling. She hadn't really thought about it before, but what was Artemis hiding? He didn't have the physique for being an assassin or ninja, but he was incredibly smart. Was he a spy? Victoria haltered in the middle of the hall, turning over the idea like a peppermint under the tongue, considering its flavor.

"That could be it." She began walking again, and her stomach let out a long, angry growl. She clutched her midsection, trying to choke off the sound. "Surely they can't have cleared out _all_ the food," she muttered, turning toward the kitchen. Maybe she could scavenge some peanut butter, or a forgotten sleeve of crackers.

* * *

A short time later, Artemis entered the kitchen to find Victoria at the granite-topped island, staring at the scant results of her own search.

"I looked through the whole kitchen," she grumbled, managing not to jump when he stepped into the room, "and this is all I find: a stick of celery, half a tub of sour cream, and this- what is this?" She tilted a tupperware container toward him for inspection.

"That would be calamari." His nose crinkled softly. "Correction: it used to be calamari." Victoria released the tub as if it had the plague, wiping her palms on her jeans.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"Same reason as you," Artemis shrugged, "but I know this kitchen's secrets." She tried not to find him attractive when he grinned his smug, vampiric grin and made his way to the refrigerator. Victoria looked over his shoulder as he crouched down and unlatched the vent under the freezer drawers. He pulled out a cooler and pressed his thumb to a print scanner on the lid.

"Wah-"

"It's a refrigerator unit for all of my brothers' guilty pleasures." Artemis explained. The cooler gave off a hiss as he opened it, revealing a treasure trove of bratwurst, ice cream bars, and other frozen goodies. "After the twins grew old enough to get into the food cabinets, my mother requested that I hide their favorites in these sealed containers." He handed Victoria the bratwurst and a bag of french fries.

"They managed to break open the others, but this one seems untampered with."He returned the cooler and stood."You know how to cook this much, do you not?" he asked. Victoria frowned, but nodded."Well then, I'll leave you to it." He started to leave the kitchen, but Victoria caught his arm.

"Wait a second, sir, if you don't stay and help, then you-"All of a sudden, the lights wavered, then died. The whole manor gave a collective sigh as every electrical appliance shut down. Victoria yelped quietly, and Artemis sighed. "D'arvit."

* * *

Apparently, as rich as the Fowls were, they did not have a back-up generator.

"I have been meaning to instal one," Artemis grumbled as they walked tentatively down a dark hallway to the garage, using Artemis's cell phone as a flashlight, "but Mother was worried about the ramifications it would have on our carbon footprint."

"Your mom's really serious about that kinda stuff, huh?" Victoria mused, sticking close behind Artemis so she wouldn't get lost.

"Obnoxiously so." Artemis agreed. He looked over his shoulder at her, the blue luminescence from the phone outlining his slim cheekbones. "Does your mother never irk you?"

"Oh, sure," the redhead conceded with a shrug. "She forgets a lot of stuff, or remembers wrong. And she likes to try to harmonize to songs on the radio. Emphasis on the _try_."

"Her dissonance is most likely a result of mild amusia or a natural digression of her timbre, caused by aging." Artemis said without hesitation.

Victoria sighed, but there was amusement in her voice as she said, "I'm so glad you're never meeting my parents." He smirked.

"If you had understood what I said, perhaps you would have found it helpful." Victoria laughed at the thought of Artemis being helpful, and he told her she had better respect him or he'd turn off the phone and leave her in the dark. Finally they made it to the garage, where both youths loaded up with firewood and staggered to the living room. The Fowl living room had a fireplace so big that Santa could not only fit inside it, but live there in relative comfort. Artemis set to work preparing the fire, while Victoria went to the kitchen to fetch their meager supplies and equipment to cook them with.

"You're sure you can start a fire?" she asked dubiously upon her return. Artemis brushed off his hands and gave her an irritated look.

"I may not be a boy scout, but I am a genius. Observe." He lit a single match and threw it on the kindling. With a sharp pop, the fire immediately roared to life, taking the artist aback.

"Wha- how did- how did you do that?" she asked, dumbfounded. "I mean, starting a fire is one thing, but that was instantaneous!" Artemis basked in her obvious admiration a moment longer before chuckling.

"Elementary, really," he grinned, "I coated the logs in kerosene while you were getting your pan." He motioned to the cooking tool in her hand. She frowned as the deception sunk in, then gasped, looking at him as if he'd just admitted to killing the prime minister.

"I'll beat you with this pan!" She brought the instrument over her head for emphasis. He didn't even flinch.

"Lower the kitchen implement and come over here." He kneeled in front of the now blazing fire and gave her a smile that warmed her more than the fire's heat. "To borrow an American colloquialism; let's get cooking."

* * *

"This is the most fun I've had while cooking." Victoria grinned, shifting sizzling fries in the pan.

"Chasing me with flaming bratwurst is not what I'd call 'fun.'" Artemis grumbled, crossing his arms.

"It's your fault it caught fire!" she retorted, "and after all your 'The intensity of the fire in relation to the density of the processed meats' talk."

"At least we are certain they are thoroughly cooked."

"Yeah," she chuckled, "_at least_- I think these are done." She divided the french fries between their porcelain plates, where the bratwurst were still smoking. "Have you ever cooked out before? With your parents or anything?" Victoria asked tentatively, poking her bratwurst as if afraid that it would combust again.

"No, my father was not the forest ranger type until the twins were born," Artemis replied. "Not that I minded. To me, he was a serene, business-minded father figure, but I suspect that even if he had insisted on camping during my youth, I would not have been at all interested. Outdoor exploration has never been my cup of tea."

"Oh really? Never would have guessed it," Victoria deadpanned, and he shot her a small lop-sided grin. She didn't catch it, though, as she leaned back against the couch, staring into the flames. "I like exploring," she continued, almost dreamily, "I just don't get the chance very often. Growing up in the midwest, there's not much to explore except cornfields and rabbit holes." She fell into silence, unvoiced thoughts preoccupying her as she munched on french fries.

Artemis ate just enough to sate his hunger, pensive of what the foreign food would do to his digestive system. They sat quietly in front of the fire, and, bored with the circular motion his thoughts were taking, Artemis watched his companion out of his peripheral vision. His brows furrowing in interest as her expressions changed with her thoughts.

First her face was serene, her eyes stoic and brows a flat line, parallel with her lips. Then, her lips twitched with the touch of a smile, but another memory caught her by surprise, and her eyes widened. Then her face plummeted; her mouth turned downward and her light eyebrows pulled together. Her eyes glazed over, and then her face went blank and her eyes cold, almost as cold as his own. He felt that annoying pang again. What was she thinking about, that was so painful she had to lock it away?

"You're very quiet for an American female," he mused aloud, jerking Victoria from her trance.

"W-what? Oh," she shrugged, "I'm OK with silence. Growing up with five younger siblings..." she chuckled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes; the remnants of her previous thoughts still hovered there. "Well, you grow to appreciate it." Artemis nodded. He could sympathize. Ever since he met Holly, and especially since the twins were born, his life could get unbearably tumultuous.

"They make life worth living, though, don't they?" Artemis said, half to himself. He looked sidewise at her. She was watching him curiously. He turned his gaze back to the fire and clarified, "Family, I mean." Victoria laughed, her grin genuine this time.

"Artemis Fowl, are you being sentimental? I never thought I'd see the day."He frowned, a tad miffed.

"There is no need for such surprise. I am human, after all."

"Really?" Victoria smirked. "I want proof."

With just the twitch of an eyebrow, Artemis snatched Victoria's right hand from her knee and, enclosing her hand in his own, pressed her fingertips to the side of his long, white neck, against the exterior jugular vein. In a daze, she thought that his pulse was a bit quicker than it should be, but it could not compete with her own. The increase in blood pressure forced a deep blush into her cheeks. She looked up at Artemis's face, wondering vaguely if he was blushing as well. She couldn't tell in the undulating light, but apparently hers was obvious, for Artemis released her almost immediately. She jerked her hand away.

"OK, OK, you're human. Geez." She rubbed her hand on her pant leg. "No need to go all Tarzan on me." They fell into silence again, Victoria composing herself and Artemis wondering at his actions, and how they related at all to the loincloth-clad television hero. His actions were a bit out of character, he knew, and he would have strong words with himself about it later, but he had to admit that his deviation did accrue satisfactory results. As to why he acted so abnormally, Artemis pinned it on personal growth. Perhaps, through Miss Bering, he would learn how to better interact with his peers. After all, didn't Holly bring out aspects of his character he did not believe existed? Speaking of Holly, she was going to expect a call from him soon.

"I apologize, pardon?" Artemis shook his head shortly to dispel his thoughts. Victoria had asked him a question.

"Do you play cards?" she asked again, still not able to meet his eyes.

"Yes, I know a few games."

"Awesome," she smiled, "I brought a deck. They're in my room. Can I borrow the flashlight?"

"On the contrary, I shall accompany you." Artemis rose gracefully to his feet and retrieved the electric torch from the mantle. "After all, the manor is quite vast and confusing. If you got lost, I would not have a substantial light source to search for you with."

"Golly gee, Einstein," the artist broke into a genuine laugh. "You don't need a good excuse for everything you do. Just admit you're afraid of the dark and don't want to be left alone." As Artemis thought of a suitable comeback, Victoria swiped the flashlight from his hands. With a sly smile, she flipped it on and turned its beam down the hall.

"I'll be taking this. I don't trust you not to leave me behind in the dark." Artemis's lower lip curled into what could almost be called a pout, but it immediately stretched into an amused grin again as his companion muttered,

"Now, which way do we go...?"

* * *

Holly scrolled through the hospital records for the forth time since clocking out of work, but she knew what she would find.

"Nothing." The elf sighed, sitting back from her desktop and running both hands through her short, red hair. "Still nothing. Ugh! I feel so useless!" She thought she would be more at ease knowing that everything was out of her hands until Artemis uncovered something, but she was finding quite the opposite was true. She should be out there on the streets investigating, preventing more deaths... but there was nothing she could do. She stood to pace; something she had been doing a lot lately.

"Where is Mulch?" Holly wondered aloud. "His shuttle should have gotten back by now, and even if he isn't planning on coming over to report in, he could have at least called." The elf paused in her pacing. Had something happened to Mulch on his journey? In the farthest, most immensely bored corner of Holly's mind, she hoped something had, so she would have something to _do_. "Maybe I should call him," she mused aloud, pulling her communicator from her pocket, simultaneously making a mental note to play more music in her apartment so she wouldn't talk to herself all the time. Before she could dial the number, though, there was a heavy knock on the door. She exhaled, her boredom turning to exasperation toward her late comrade.

"Well, it's about time!" she exclaimed, turning the door handle, "what took you so-"

"Good evening, Holly." Holly suppressed a jump when she discovered Commander Trouble Kelp on the other side of the door. He grinned smugly at her reaction.

"Expecting someone else?"

"Ah, yeah," Holly grunted as her superior entered her flat. "I had a hot date tonight, but it seems he stood me up."

"Hmm," the commander replied, seemingly uninterested. "Well, I'm sorry for ruining your evening, but there is something I must speak with you about."


	9. Blackouts can Encourage Romance

**Fixed the last section. Sorry about that.**

* * *

Mulch rolled out of the shuttle's cargo bay with a heavy groan. The shuttle had arrived in Haven two hours late due to overbooking on the flight, which also forced Mulch to bunk in the cargo hold instead of pirating a first class seat like on his first trip. He had tried calling Holly multiple times once he was in range so she wouldn't be as peeved at him when he arrived, but he couldn't get any service from the hold. Now, stumbling out of the cargo bay and into a nearby broom closet, the dwarf tried his partner again. No answer. Mulch huffed.

"Well, if she chews me out for not calling, I'm gonna have a few words..." he grumbled, stuffing the phone in the deep pockets of his over-alls as he opened the closet door. When he was sure the coast was clear, the ex-con tip-toed across the loading dock and out into the busy lobby. Maybe Commander Tight Britches has her on double duty, Mulch mused. He keeps complaining about how short-handed the agency is. He's like Julius that way. The ex-con smiled sadly, then caught himself, twisting the gentle smile into a cynical smirk. After making it out of the shuttle port and onto the streets without incident, Mulch instinctively stuck to the shadows and headed toward his hovel in the less reputable part of town. Head down and hands in his pockets, his fingers brushed the communicator. He sighed in annoyance.

"I suppose I should go see if she's home. If she's not, at least she doesn't have an excuse to punish me later." So, Mulch made his way from the slums of Haven uphill to the middle class district. He took off his mud-clotted jacket as he crossed the border into the nicer part of town, holding up his head and straightening his back to play the part. Finally, he arrived at Holly's apartment building. He took a shoot to the forth floor, walked all the way to the end of the hall, and knocked on Holly's front door.

"Excuse me a sec," came Holly's muffled tones. She threw back the latch and opened the door a few inches. Mulch frowned. She looked shocked to see him- that made no sense, since she should be expecting him- then she gave him a warning look he couldn't quite decipher.

"What a- pleasant surprise!" she stammered, more to the person behind her than to Mulch.

"Holly, what-"

"Oh, if it isn't the reformed convict!" Kelp leaned back in his chair to see Holly's newest visitor, and Mulch wished he had taken the hint. Kelp glanced back at Holly, an amused look on his face. "He your 'hot date'?"

"Ah," Mulch gulped, eager to get out of there, "maybe- I should come back later-"

"Oh no, please!" Kelp replied, obviously pleased to have his prey so aptly cornered. "Holly would only have to debrief you later. Come in- that is, if it's OK with you, Holly."

"Oh yeah, yeah, sure." Holly rolled her eyes and opened the door wide so the stout dwarf could come in. To be honest, though, she was glad of her partner's arrival. Alone, Kelp had the upper hand, and he knew it. With Mulch there, even though the commander still outranked them, at least the odds were more even. Holly brewed a pot of herbal tea, dug out a sleeve of forgotten Acorn Scout cookies, and the three gathered around the kitchen table to talk business.

"So, what's this about?" Holly asked, ready to get this over with.

"Surely you already have your suspicions about why I am here." Kelp said, grasping firmly to his advantage.

"Well, I'm hoping it's to rekindle your short-lived romance with the Captain." Mulch leaned toward Holly and stage-whispered, "I have 5 gold pieces in the LEP pool." Holly, who normally would have been annoyed, grinned as Kelp growled.

"No!" Kelp insisted, "and that's against protocol, by the way. There will be repercussions later." Mulch rolled his eyes, and Kelp sighed, his ego successfully brought down a notch. "I'll just get right to it."

"Please do," Holly said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. The commander exhaled, regaining his composure, and Mulch, his work done, began demolishing the Acorn Scout cookies.

"I know that, even though I forbade it, you continued to investigate the possibility of an epidemic in Haven." Holly's eyes narrowed, but she made no effort to confirm or deny. "I wasn't going to come to you about it yet, since I need you on the force, so I wasn't sure what course of action I should take against this _blatant_ disobedience of **direct** orders. However, that all changed when I got the call this afternoon." Holly waited patiently, and even Mulch paused in his eating.

"Captain Mallard and three other officers started showing symptoms of the disease, and two are already in critical condition." Holly bit her lip.

"D'Arvit."

"What?" Mulch asked through chews. "I mean, I know this is serious stuff, but why mention this captain by name?" Holly rubbed her forehead, trying to process the implications while she explained.

"Mallard is a germo-phobe, and- a close personal friend of the commander and I. He's never had so much as a cold in his life, let alone a lethal illness."

"So, we're talking Foaly-level paranoia here?" the ex-con asked, licking his lips. Holly smiled a little.

"Worse. It would take someone deliberately drugging his organic, toxin-flushing protein shakes to get any bacteria into his system." She looked up at Kelp. "How bad is he?"

"He's still in the first stages, but based on the current pattern, he has three days at the most."

"Oh." Holly sniffed. "So what do you want us to do about it?"Kelp sat back, relieved to be back on more work-oriented topics.

"Well, I obviously can't rule out this disease as a minor threat anymore, and since you two- and Artemis as well, I assume- are best acquainted with the case, I would like you find out where the disease is coming from, and how to stop it."

"Whoa whoa wait a minute." Mulch protested. "I agreed to sneak the info to Fowl, yes, but that's where my involvement ends." Kelp raised an eyebrow.

"I could just lock you up for a couple decades for smuggling Fairy information to a human accomplice. I'm sure your prior cellmates have missed you." Mulch didn't even pretend to think it over. Julius could be talked out of these kinds of things; Kelp couldn't.

2"I'm in!" he declared. "Besides, I've quite missed the near-death experiences." He glanced down at the empty sleeve of cookies, then over to Holly. "Do you have any Critter Crunch-O's?"

* * *

Holly decided to start her official investigation by visiting the current victims at the hospital.

"Maybe their paths intersect somehow, and that's where they got the disease." Holly explained to Artemis through the communicator suckered to the dash of her police cruiser. He was on his ring-phone.

"Or how," he pointed out. "Do not assume that the illness is linked to a certain place. In all actuality, it was probably something they consumed, or a person they all came in contact with."

"Got it," she nodded, then raised an eyebrow. "Why are you whispering?"

"Ahhh," Artemis thought of about seven different lies he could feed her, then said simply, "It's a long story."

"Uh huh." Holly started to smirk, but fell short when she turned a corner and the hospital came into view. "Alright, I'll let you get back to whatever you're doing, Mud Boy, and I'll report back in a few hours."

"Sounds good." Artemis whispered, and for some reason that amused Holly.

"Treat her well, boyo!" Mulch added from the background, and the captain laughed, glad for the distraction from the weight of her thoughts. Artemis sighed.

"Punch him for me, will you, Holly?"Holly nodded.

"Sure thing. See you, Arty." She hung up and, with a deep breath, put a hand on the hospital's scan pad. The device partly served as a security measure- the Haven Metro Hospital was home to a very prestigious and enviable lab- but the computer also read her medical history, and the scanner took a blood sample to make sure the visitor had no contagious viruses. The program was so efficient, Holly wondered why they needed doctors. After being confirmed virus-free, Holly and Mulch were escorted to the appropriate wing. Captain Mallard was being kept in a quarantine room in Intensive Care.

"You'd better stay out here," Holly said to Mulch. "Mallard would have a fit if he saw you; germaphobe, remember?"

"Germs? I have no germs! Just good, healthy dirt!" Mulch said indignantly. Holly rolled her eyes.

"Just go hang out in the cafeteria."

"Sold." Mulch ran back down the hall, the insult forgotten.

"Hey there, stranger," Captain Mallard croaked when Holly pulled back the translucent green tarp that surrounded his bed. She bit her lip painfully at the sight of him; his green sprite skin was blotchy and pale, and his chest was covered in angry, purple welts. His blue eyes had bags under them, and electric nodes were attached to his forehead and chest. Several needles penetrated his arms. His wings, spread delicately behind him, looked like they were deteriorating. The only sound in the room was the whir of the life-support machinery as she stood there, stunned.

"Don't worry," he reassured, shakily pushing his thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It's not as bad as it looks. Half of the tubes are so I don't have to get up to use the restroom." Holly didn't laugh. She couldn't.

"How are you doing?" she asked, trying to keep the sorrow from her voice. Mallard smiled wanly.

"Are you kidding me, Holly? I'm terrified. This is my worst nightmare come true." The smile fell from his face as he continued, "it's humiliating just being here in the first place. After all of my careful planning..." Holly took his trembling hand, and it continued to shake as she held it.

"Wally, can you tell me anything different you've done lately, anything peculiar that could have brought this on?" Wally Mallard thought for a minute.

"Not that I recall. The day I noticed the symptoms, I woke up at 6, like I always do, and performed my yoga exercises. Then I ate breakfast; organically grown salad and protein shake made with ingredients from my own protected garden, and took the tram to work. No one bumped into me because I sat in my regular seat in the front, and even if someone did manage to touch me, the germs would have been neutralized by the suit Foaly made for me. I was wearing my filtration mask and goggles as well- you think you could get those for me, by the way? I haven't been able to take readings, but I'm sure the germs in here-" He was interrupted by a horrible, hacking cough. Holly jumped up, supporting him as he wretched. He drew his hand from his mouth and looked wearily at the blood coating his fingers."Well, that can't be sanitary," he muttered, exhausted. The elf gasped in horror.

"I'm calling a nurse."

"No, Holls." Mallard leaned back into the pillows. "They can't do anything. Besides, if I called the nurse every time I started bleeding, I'd have a permanent caretaker." He motioned her to a chair. "Now, as I was saying," he continued when she was seated, "I made it to Police Plaza as usual, put on my special suit, and did my rounds. I ate the lunch I had pre-packed, and after work I went to the acupuncturist. She used needles I had disinfected myself. Finally, I went home and stayed there for the rest of the night. My home, as you know, is a fortress of cleanliness."Holly attempted a smile, failed, and went back to business again.

"We're going to need a list of everything you've eaten, bought, and assignments you've had over the last week, just in case it's sabotage."

"You really think this is a crime against the LEP, Holly?" Mallard whispered, his breathing becoming shallow with exhaustion.

"No, but we have to cover all our bases." Holly stood and kissed Mallard's feverish forehead. "Hang on, OK?" Mallard nodded slightly.

"I'll- try. Save me, Holly."As he closed his eyes, Holly let the tears fall, her fists clenching at her sides.

"I will."

* * *

Artemis turned off his ring phone and returned to where Victoria was lying on her stomach to sketch in front of the fire. They had long given up card games (Artemis always won, and he didn't believe in "going easy" on someone), and resorted to doing their own thing. But, in the spirit of comradare, one of them would break the silence periodically to ask a trivia question with the hopes of tripping up their companion.

"Who was that?" Victoria asked nonchalantly, not looking up from her sketching.

"That's hardly a challenging question." Artemis pointed out, lowering himself onto the floor beside her. He could have sat on the sofa, but he didn't feel like it.

"It is if you don't know how to answer it," she replied, still without looking at him. It irked her that he was being secretive, a reaction which both annoyed and amused the genius.

"An old friend of mine needed some consolation," he allowed, looking over her shoulder at her progress and gage her reaction. "A school companion of hers was hospitalized recently."Victoria's face fell. She bought it, though he hadn't really lied. "Oh. I'm so sorry."Artemis looked grim as well. If he didn't find a cure for this virus soon, Holly's friend would die. He couldn't have that on his conscience, not to mention the heartbreak Holly would experience.

"Me too."

"OK," her face lit up, though the mood seemed forced. "I have one! What was Dorothea Lange's profession?"

"A photographer." Artemis said without pause. "Now one for you: who wrote the lyrics to 'Je ne regrette rien'?" Victoria looked thoughtful.

"I believe it was- _Monsieur Yoora Jerke_." The genius laughed.

"Amusing, but incorrect."

"You're unfair," the artist growled, adding details to her sketches. "A tactful host would let me get a few."

"It's your own fault for being uneducated."

"Says the socially inept teenager."Artemis pouted, but Victoria didn't notice, so he pouted some more. As he gazed into the fire, though, his face sobered. How could he be so at ease when Holly was desperately trying to find a way to save her friend? Guilt nibbled at the edges of his heart as Artemis puzzled over this dilemma. Victoria twisted to look at him over her shoulder. Her brows furrowed upon seeing his pained expression.

"Look, I wasn't serious." She nudged him with her elbow. He glanced down at her incredulously, and she shrugged. "OK, maybe I am serious, but personally, I find your social stupidity refreshing. It's a nice break, you know?" She turned back to her notebook and chuckled wryly to herself. "You're so good at everything else."Artemis smiled, but quickly caught himself. He was doing it again! How did this girl make him smile so much? He should get away to clear his head but, for some reason, he didn't want to leaving the warmth of the living room. Funny, Artemis usually didn't mind the cold. They sat in silence for a while, Artemis looking everywhere except at his partner, when a sudden movement caught his eye. Victoria had fallen asleep over her sketchbook, with her head only a couple feet from the very open fireplace; not a good position to sleep in.

"Ugh, you're such a handful," Artemis grumbled, but his voice was gentle when he shook her shoulder. "If you're going to sleep, at least turn so a burning log won't crush your head during the night."

"What?" Victoria sat up, groggy and a bit confused about where she was. "I'm not- tired-" this said, she promptly fell across Artemis's crossed legs. Her torso stretched across his left leg so her head rested on his right. Her hands curled up under her chin as she situated herself. When she sighed her chest rattled from a mild cold she caught.

"Like a big cat," Artemis said under his breath, but the simile did not keep his blush from growing. After a few minutes of staying perfectly still so not to waken his guest and cause them both horrible mortification, Artemis risked moving. He first uncrossed his legs, drawing only a small groan from Victoria. Next, he lifted her head to put a pillow underneath it to keep his leg from going numb, plus make her more comfortable. Then he worked on pulling the couch forward for support. After tentatively making all of his adjustments, Artemis leaned back against the couch and sighed in relief.

"Ummm?" Victoria's breath caught and she raised her head wearily from the pillow. "Wha-?" In an attempt to lull her back to dreamland, Artemis's hand reached out and began stroking her hair. He didn't know why he thought of it in the first place but, as Artemis gathered his wits, he realized his instinctive plan was working. Applying just enough pressure, he coerced her head back onto the pillow, and soon she was purring again. Even after she slept soundly, though, Artemis did not remove his hand. Take care not to touch her ear, it'll disturb her, he told himself as his fingers moved up and down the orange waves. For some reason, sitting like this relaxed him more than anything had in a long time.

"Maybe I should invest in a cat," he thought absent-mindedly, before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Holly left the hospital about two hours later, her hands itching to get the son of a troll who had done this and give him a piece of Holly Short justice. Mulch, who she'd had hailed over the intercom, was a few paces behind her, hindered by some souvenirs he'd taken.

"Holly? Holly, wait up!" Mulch juggled all of the food he had "liberated" from the hospital cafeteria, barely making it to the police cruiser before Holly took off.

"Good Frond, what is your _problem_?" He gasped, closing the passenger door, which was hard to do around all his cargo. "You nearly left-" He was cut off when Holly slammed on the accelerator, sending his hoard flying.

"Mulch," Holly growled, "keep a hold of your- augh, D'Arvit!" The captain flipped on the cruiser lights and swerved around a particularly slow shuttle.

"Whoa there, Short!" Mulch exclaimed, genuinely afraid for his life. "No need to get reckless. What's the huge rush?"

"Would you just-" Holly turned to yell at her partner, then noticed the look on his face. Wide eyes, furrowed brows, pursed lips; Mulch was... concerned. She turned her gaze back to the road. "I'm sorry, Mulch. I'm just worried. Mallard is a good friend of mine, and now he only has days to live with wishful thinking." Her hands tightened on the wheel. "We haven't a moment to lose. I interviewed all of the patients who were physically able to talk with me. None of them were in the same place recently or knew the same person, but some of them remember buying TARA brand spring water two days ago, though at different locations."

"Sounds promising." The dwarf dug into a large vegetarian sandwich. "So it's off to the TARA processing plant."

* * *

Grove Pits leaned heavily on the doorknob to his flat as he opened the door, exhausted from working his day job.

"So?" came the voice from the corner. "Did you plant them?"

"Yes, yes," Pits groaned, falling into the computer chair without taking off his jacket or boots, "Six new test cases will be showing up in the next few days. But- we've got a problem." There was no reply from the dominant partner, so the elf hesitantly continued. "Some LEP operatives were poking around the TARA plant today. Apparently Commander Kelp has- caught our scent. I wouldn't be surprised if they asked their friend aboveground to consult, as well."

"So, Artemis Fowl has finally been roped into our little game," the boss cackled. "Well, this definitely makes things more interesting."

"You're not- upset?"

"OF COURSE NOT! Bumbling idiot!" The voice exploded from its dark corner. "Though LEP involvement makes the execution of my plan a bit difficult," he mused," it will make victory much sweeter. Pits!" His squeaky voice raised to call the attention of his assistant. "Have you found a suitable human candidate to extract the cancer from?"

"I, uh, have a list of possibilities, but-""

Scrap the list. Find instead a cancer patient close to Artemis Fowl." He laughed diabolically. "Let's make this personal."

* * *

Victoria woke up at midmorning the next day and was surprised to find her head on a pillow and a blanket over her.

"Artemis?" She wondered aloud, but received no response. The fire died down, so he probably got up a while ago, she reasoned. After reviving the fire, Victoria roasted one of the last bratwurst and ate it on the stick as she wandered down the vast corridors, looking for her missing companion. She found him where she expected she would; in his study. She knocked.

"Come in," Artemis mumbled, and thankfully he didn't rebuke her, because Victoria didn't understand what he said, so she assumed because he answered she was granted access. All of the windows were thrown open and natural light flooded the usually dark and computer screen-lit room. The power was still out, so Artemis had to improvise.

"How long have you been up?" Victoria asked.

"About three hours," he replied without looking up.

"Have you been doing this the whole time?"

"Mostly." She bit her lower lip, then asked what she really wanted to know.

"What- are you doing?"Artemis sat back in his chair with a thud, relieved at the distraction.

"Take a look for yourself." Victoria approached the desk with more trepidation than was necessary and looked curiously over the desk's contents. Artemis had been using a flashlight and magnifying glass to study some sort of blood-stained material. A sample of what she presumed was the same material marinated in a nearby petri dish.

"Crime investigation?" Victoria asked.

"Of a sort. We're not sure yet if it was murder or an unfortunate accident. I'm- consulting with the police." Artemis gave her a sincere look. "Please don't tell my mother. She doesn't know I do this. It can get dangerous, you know."

"Yeah- sure thing."Artemis nodded, then went back to work. Victoria stood in front of the desk in silence. She had known Artemis was keeping a secret, but this was way more awesome- and noble- than she had imagined. She felt honored that he trusted her with his secret. A million questions zoomed through Victoria's mind, but in the face of Artemis's trust in her, she couldn't bring herself to ask any of them.

"You have a bachelor's degree in anthropology, right?" Artemis asked after Victoria awkwardly stood there for a few minutes.

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

"Then maybe you can help me. Come take a look at this."She crossed behind the desk and leaned over the display of evidence and notes Artemis had already taken. Her interest in what she was looking at overcame her nervousness, and she leaned in close to examine the evidence. The genius recognized their close proximity, however, and rolled his chair over a couple of inches to give her more room.

"Hmmm,"Victoria murmured, picking up the piece of cloth with tweezers and holding it up to the light. "The blood is spattered, and the hue is darker on the outside, so the blood didn't seep through the material from the interior side. This cloth didn't come from the victim?"

"No, no it didn't," Artemis replied. He had noticed this himself, but he was impressed that she caught on with so little background. He had underestimated her. Victoria, unaware of his increased esteem, continued to mumble to herself.

"What is this cloth made out of?" she asked suddenly.

"Oh, I couldn't tell you," Artemis lied. He couldn't tell her it was made from advanced polyfibers and plastiques designed by fairies. "Why?"

"It's the color of the blood," she mused. "If I knew the make-up of the cloth, I could tell you if the cloth had any affect on it, but that would make no sense, I suppose, since the material is green, and the blood spatter seems to be more-"

"Orange." Artemis finished.

"Yeah!" Victoria agreed, then blushed at her obvious interest. "But, you probably already noticed that, didn't you."

"I did," he admitted, swerving his chair back to the petri dish on the desk, "but I did not consider its implications. Tell me, Victoria, what else becomes orange when exposed to oxygen?" Victoria frowned, but the answer came easy to her.

"Iron."

"Right. I didn't notice it before because I was expecting a more complex solution, but blood this orange would have to contain extremely high amounts of iron!" A triumphant grin spread across his face, stunning Victoria with its sudden brilliance. "Would you excuse me? I have to make a call."

"Y-yeah, sure." Victoria didn't realize that since the cell phone towers and landlines were down, he shouldn't be able to call anyone. She was too preoccupied with the frantic beating of her heart.

* * *

As morning came aboveground, night fell on the underground city of Haven. Holly laid back on her futon with a discontented sigh. Their first day of formal investigation had done nothing but disappoint and depress her. She knew she shouldn't expect so much so soon, but this was personal; the life of one of her best friends was at stake. This wasn't unusual, but Mallard was different. He didn't do anything to deserve, or even inspire, this kind of demise.

She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes to suppress the headache building behind them. It took longer than usual for her magic to take care of the problem. She was running out, which meant she would have to go topside soon. She would be able to see Artemis. This thought brightened her mood considerably, but not enough for her to bother eating dinner that night. At around ten fairy time, she got a call.

"Artemis! Just the mudboy I wanted to hear from."

"What do you mean?" He asked, his smirk almost audible. "Are you keeping other mudboys I'm not aware of, Holly?"Holly smiled. If Artemis was in a joking mood, he must have discovered something important.

"Why did you call me, Arty?"

"I've made a break in the case," he informed her, the excitement evident in his voice.

"Which is-?"Artemis went on to explain the high iron content in the blood, and how this is abnormal, since neither cancer nor the fairy illness caused a rise in iron content.

"Can't it be a side effect of the mutant disease?" Holly asked.

"I thought of that too, but the chemical calculations I conducted do not support that hypothesis."

"What then?" Holly quizzed, a bit annoyed to be kept waiting for such pertinent information.

"I'm not positive- I haven't been able to do any tests because the power is still down here- but I'm guessing that in order for the disease to multiply and ward off white blood cells as effectively as it does, it's possible the culprits could be using nanobot technology."

"And in order to expunge any evidence, they self-destruct upon the victim's death!" Holly exclaimed, catching on.

"And destroy the cancer cells with them, leaving only atoms in their wake." Holly sat straight up on her futon, thoroughly revived.

"Artemis, this is game changing! If these nanobots work like Foaly's do, a small charge is all it would take to short-circuit them!" Holly could hardly contain her excitement. Mallard would be healed before he even reached the worst stages of the disease!

"No, Holly," Artemis said gravely, bringing the captain down from her high.

"No?" Holly asked, irritated. "No what?"

"No, we cannot use this information to cure your friend just yet," Artemis said calmly. "Think of the implications of using this data so early in the game. The disease has mutated twice already. If this theory is true, I believe the nanobots are merely bodyguards for the real threat. If we reveal what we know now, the perpetrator could go farther underground and use more direct ways to harm the People." Holly growled and threw a pillow against the wall in frustration. She knew he was right.

"Artemis, you don't understand," she choked, her knuckles white as she clenched the futon cushion. "This is one of my best friends we are talking about. If we don't use what we know, or find a cure-"

"I do understand your situation, Holly," the human soothed. "I've been through this with my mother twice already, not to mention Father and Butler. Trust me." Holly didn't reply, and Artemis's sigh sent static sizzling across their connection. "Well, we cannot use the nanobot theory yet," he reiterated, "but I don't see the harm in revealing that we know about the cancer, since neither humans nor fairies know a cure. But perhaps starting Captain Mallard on chemotherapy treatment will slow the disease."

"Chemotherapy?" Holly repeated. "You mean, voluntary radiation? Artemis, you know fairies hate radiation. I don't think we even have the equipment."

"I can send it to you. I know this sounds counterintuitive, but we need more time to solve this case-" Artemis's voice grew more sincere "-and you need some peace of mind." Holly bit her lip, and her friend took her silence as consent. "I'll send the equipment over as soon as I can. Tell Foaly to get a shuttle ready." "OK."There was silence over the phone as both friends strategized and pondered. Before hanging up, Holly said quietly, "Thanks."


	10. Christmas Kidnappings

Butler made it back to the manor around four PM. Victoria answered the knock on the large oak doors since she was the closest, having spent the last few hours working on the mural. Thinking it was a bit suspicious for a guest to appear during a snowstorm, Victoria brought up a stool to look through the Butler-eye-level peep hole.

"Oh dang," she whispered, jumping off of the stool and throwing open the doors. Butler- and about three feet of snow- tumbled inside. He dropped the six grocery bags he held and helped her close the doors on the avalanche of snow. Butler looked like death; his black flannel cap, leather gloves, and dark overcoat were white with snow, and his loafers did little to protect his feet against the cold wetness. His face was beat red except for the dark bags under his icy blue eyes, and his body shook with heavy breathing.

"Golly gee, Butler." Victoria fretted, looping one arm around the bodyguard, though she couldn't quite make it around his broad shoulders. "Come on, let's get you to the fire. Artemis! Butler's back!"

"Really, old friend," Artemis handed Butler a cup of tea as Victoria built up the fire again, "You are the best breed of bodyguard, but even I did not expect you to walk back here through the snow. I highly doubt assassins would risk prowling in such weather, and leaving behind the Bentley was just sloppy." Butler chuckled. "Come now, Artemis," he said in his deep bass, "you know I knew you couldn't survive two days without electricity and a decent meal."

"True," Artemis allowed, fully aware of his spoiled nature. "I have a newfound sympathy for cavemen. Thank the gods for technology and Cordon bleu!"

"But Butler," Victoria interrupted, "how did you get in the estate? You weren't able to buzz, and we have no control over the gates with the electricity out." Butler took a sip of his tea.

"I climbed the fence." The American opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. There were no words. Artemis smiled, not surprised. Victoria wondered if anything fazed him.

"Would you like some more tea?" After another half hour of small talk (mostly Victoria asking Butler questions and Artemis answering them), Artemis set Butler to fixing the electricity.

"I simply cannot continue without my servers!" he declared. "My research is far too important to wait for a 'professional' serviceman."

"Artemis, he just got back!" Victoria protested. She poked the bodyguard's shoulder. "See? He's still thawing."

"And hard work will warm me faster." Butler said in a subject-settled tone. He stood. "Thank you for your concern, Miss Bering, but this is the privileged work of a Fowl butler." Victoria pursed her lips, then shrugged. Perhaps there was more of a cultural difference between Americans and the Irish than she thought. Butler fixed the electricity and cell service in less than an hour, and Victoria was more grateful than she thought she would be. After the Internet came back on, she spent the next couple of hours replying to messages and returning anxious calls from family members and friends who wondered if she was all right and why she wasn't answering the phone.

"Well it's about fudgin' time!" Charlie practically screamed into the receiver. "Do you know how worried your family has been?"

"Yeah, I got messages too." Victoria rolled her eyes.

"Well, what happened?"

"Umm..." Victoria wondered where to begin. "Well, we had this freak snowstorm, and-" she recounted the whole situation to Charlie, from the time the family left to when Butler returned home.

"So you were alone in that mansion for a whole night," Charlie reiterated, her tone disbelieving and disappointed, "and he didn't make a move on you the entire time?"

"There is such a thing called 'self control.'" The artist reminded her friend. "I know it's a foreign concept to you, but at least understand that some people have it." Victoria drew back a window curtain and looked down at the blanket of bluish snow covering the front lawn. "Besides, he's my boss's son. I'm sure he isn't interested in me that way." She grinned. "But we both know if he had tried anything, I would've decked him."

"So you don't like him?" Charlie asked. Victoria felt a blush building up in her cheeks. She pressed her face to the cold glass of the window to cool her head.

"The jury's still out on that one."

"Tell the jury to hurry up." Charlie demanded. "I want to hear a verdict."

"Order in the court!" Victoria said half-jokingly, then was distracted by a loud whirring coming from the front of the manor. "Wait what-?"

"What is it?" Charlie ordered. Victoria blinked to be sure she saw correctly.

"A- snow plow just pulled up to the front gate."

"What?" A man in dark clothes leaned out of the plow and waved at the manor, and the gate opened.

"Victoria!" Artemis's voice echoed down the vaulted hallways. "Come to the foyer, please."

"I gotta go, Charles," Victoria apologized.

"Yeah yeah," Victoria could hear Charlie's smirk in her ear. "Go to your prince." Victoria hung up.

* * *

"Victoria!" Angeline exclaimed, pulling the unsuspecting youth into a tight hug. "It's so good to see you in good health!"

What? Victoria wondered, but was quickly distracted by the twins, who had unceremoniously attached themselves to Artemis's legs.

"How was your night?" Juliet whispered into her ear as Angeline and Artemis attempted to extract the two sleepy, brother-deprived children.

"Uneventful, I guess," Victoria shrugged.

"Oh."

"So this is the infamous artist from America I've been hearing so much about!" A tall, dark-haired man greeted her jovially. His eyes were the same color as Artemis's, Victoria noticed when the man shook her hand, but they were kinder, wiser. "Artemis Fowl Sr., at your service. It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I apologize for not being able to introduce myself sooner, but I was away on business."

"No," Victoria reassured him, a bit dazed by his charm, "I understand, it's all good."

"Father," Artemis sighed, situating Beckett on his shoulder. "Was the snowplow really necessary?" Fowl Sr. turned, his air turning more formal, but also a bit playful, as he addressed his junior.

"Personally, I wouldn't haven't have minded spending another night in town," he admitted in a businesslike manner, "But your mother was adamant that we get home in time for Christmas." Then he dropped his CEO demeanor and grinned. "Hello, son." Artemis smiled too, and it was the gentlest smile Victoria had ever seen him wear.

"Welcome home, father."

* * *

Artemis closed his cellular phone with a soft snap and turned his desk chair around to prop his feet on the window sill and look out at the night sky. He'd had to call in a favor, but he succeeded in procuring top-of-the-line chemotherapy equipment and medication, to be delivered to one of the many Fowl warehouses that night and taken to Tara by Butler tomorrow.

"That should placate the captain for a while," he sighed, turning back to the spreadsheets of data on his desktop and computer. According to the results, his nanobots theory was correct, but unfortunately the tiny machines left just enough trace to confirm his suspicions. He would need a living blood sample from someone with the disease to even have a hope of examining the nanobots themselves. This had complications as well. The tests had to be conducted in grave secrecy so the perpetrator wouldn't realize that they were on his trail.

And even if I do devise a cure from this, he could be altering the formula this very moment, Artemis groaned inwardly, running a hand through his already mussed hair. I deplore this. I deplore being one step behind. We need to find the criminal behind the virus, or we will always be on the defensive. He looked down at his nuclear powered watch. 10 pm. The twins had been in bed for an hour and he hadn't seen Victoria since dinner. The genius's sigh caught the attention of his bodyguard, who was watching the security cameras.

"What is it, Artemis?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing." Artemis shook his head slightly. He had been thinking of what excuse to give Victoria when he went to visit her. But he didn't have time for such trivial matters! Butler watched his ward turn back to his notes, muttering distractedly to himself and slumping down in his chair as he dejectedly leafed through his notes again. Regardless of what he said, the boy needed a break.

"You know," Butler said off-handedly, looking back at the screens, "I happened to pass by the mural hallway earlier and saw Miss Bering's progress. She does brilliant work, for an amateur. I especially liked the troll in the foreground."

"What? A troll?" Artemis frowned, his notes drooping a bit as he listened.

"Yes," the bodyguard nodded. "I thought it was oddly placed at first, but then Miss Bering explained to me that not everything in life is beautiful, and the same is true for paintings." Artemis grunted. She said the exact thing to him when they fought on the nature of art.

"That's not the point!" he muttered, clenching his fists. "This is my home, and it is no place for her standpoint on art ethics. Butler, hold the fort. I'll be right back."

Victoria wiped her brow and stepped back from the painting.

"Centaur 1, finished!" She sighed, wiping her shining brow with her free arm. She had been working on the mural non-stop since dinner, partly to earn a day off for Christmas, but also to get a certain conversation off her mind. _'So you don't like him?'_ Charlie's question nagged at the corners of her thoughts.

"I- I don't know," she mumbled, swirling her brush a cup of murky water until the liquid turned a new shade of brown. Did she like Artemis? It wouldn't be the first time she fell for someone off-limits. However, her previous crush, though she still greatly admired him, was one of her deepest heartbreaks.

What happens if I do like him, anyway? Victoria asked herself. It would be just like Nathan; I'll get all awkward and ruin a good friendship before it begins. She frowned at her palette as she mixed up a turquoise green color. I don't think I can handle that kind of regret again. So the obvious answer is to suppress it... but how do I do that? The artist approached the mural again, painting on autopilot as her brain processed her problem. Find a new guy to like? I've never been able to pick and choose who I like, but there are a lot of guys in Ireland... She frowned. Wait a sec. I thinking as if I _do_ like the guy.

The face of Artemis Fowl II came, unbidden, to Victoria's mind. His pale skin glowed, and his onyx hair swept carelessly to one side, even though it must have been meticulously styled to stay that way. His midnight blue eyes were cold and meticulous, but grew warm when he played with his brothers, and sometimes, when he laughed, his smile reached them. At first Victoria had thought of him as a self-centered, egotistical rich boy, but now, after only a few days of living in the manor, she saw that he was a complex, multifaceted individual, capable of malice and avarice, but also nobility and compassion. Oh crap, Victoria bit her lower lip, a blush invading her cheeks and ears. It's true. I- I have a crush on Artemis Fowl. She shook her head sharply, annoyed with herself. Well, it doesn't really matter anyway, does it? I'll be done and gone in a few weeks and never see him again. Besides, he has no interest in me, so what's the-

"Hmmm."

"Gyah!" Victoria jumped, succeeding in getting paint all down the front of her shirt. Of course, she groaned internally. He does have perfect timing, doesn't he, to show up right after I realize... geez. Aloud, she said,

"Golly gee, you've _got_ to stop that!" Artemis, who stood a couple of feet to the right, grinned over at her.

"Ruined your favorite shirt, have I? "She glanced down at the torn, grey, paint-splattered shirt and rolled her eyes. "Then no harm done." He turned his attention back to the mural. "I see you kept the troll where I told you to."

"Of course," Victoria replied with a slight frown. "It's your commission, so I'll paint it to your specifications. Within reason, of course." Artemis closed his eyes for a moment, chuckled, then opened them again.

"I see." Victoria shuffled her feet for a moment, wondering what to say, then decided to just speak her mind.

"So, did you come down here to make sure the troll was in the right place?" Artemis blanched, then considered the question.

"I guess not," he supposed with a small shrug. "I simply needed a respite from my work, and here is as good a place to relax as any." Victoria blushed.

"Really? For some reason, I doubt that." She grinned, but her palette shook slightly in her hands as she tried to still her frantic heartbeat.

"Really." Artemis replied, then reconsidered, "though I was told the troll was in the wrong place." Artemis tried not to wince when she hit him in the shoulder.

"Don't make me hug you," she threatened, motioning to the still wet streak of green on her shirt. The heir blinked. Victoria usually avoided prolonged physical contact with anyone except her twin friends. She even shied from his overly-affectionate mother, so Artemis found it suspicious that she volunteered to such an intimate act. Victoria noticed the strangeness in her actions as well and blushed profusely.

"Sorry, I- didn't mean that." she murmured, rubbing her tired eyes with the heel of one hand as a voice in her head screamed _Stupid! Stupid!_. "I can say weird things when I'm tired." Artemis nodded, but noted that she hadn't said anything so strange the night before.

"Understandable." Victoria remained silent, her attentions recaptured by the new stain on her shirt. She scrubbed at the paint with her back to him, hoping Artemis would get bored and leave her to be embarrassed in peace. Artemis sighed, irritated. He had hoped to be distracted a little while longer.

"Look," he began, "I'm going to attempt to make some waffles. Would you like to take up the endeavor with me?" Victoria smiled to herself then looked over at him, one eyebrow arched in thoughtful hesitation.

"Will there be peanut butter?"Artemis grinned. "Of course."

* * *

"_Victoria?"_

"No, I told you I din't!"

**_"Victoria!"_**

"Artemis, if you blame _me_ for one more of _your_ mishaps-"

"**Victoria!"**

"What?" Victoria's eyes snapped open as her body rolled across the bed and fell to the ground with a thud!

"Man, you are a _pain_ to get up in the morning. I tried everything short of flipping the bed!" Juliet said, her foot still planted on the mattress where she had kicked it.

"So you flipped the mattress instead?" Victoria grumbled, standing and rubbing her sore backside. Juliet shrugged.

"I brought you breakfast in bed!" She gestured to a tray of blueberry crepes and sausage links on the bedside table.

"Oh..." Victoria sat on the bed again. "What time is it?"

"About eight forty-five. Everyone else is having breakfast in their rooms as well." Victoria gave the blonde a quizzical frown. Juliet grinned. "Mr. and Mrs. Fowl use this time to switch out Christmas presents. Ever since Artemis turned four, Mr. and Mrs. Fowl started using decoy presents so the boys wouldn't guess what they were getting." The groggy artist smiled, bringing the tray on her lap.

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

"Christmas! It's Christmas!" At nine o' clock sharp, Myles and Beckett raided Victoria's room, tugging her out of bed and down the stairs. She could feel their eager pulls stressing the seems of her pajama top as they dragged her toward the living area.

"You know, you could have gone ahead without me," she grunted, speeding up to spare her shirt. The twins just ran harder.

"Mum said you had to be there before we could open the presents!" Beckett chirped.

"Tho come on!" Myles insisted, pulling on her wrist. She winced as her elbow popped from the stress.

"OK, OK! Just slow the heck down!"

"Don't you look marvelous this morning," Artemis commented when she and the twins barrelled into the room. The genius donned his usual sharp and professional appearance, though he seemed a bit disgruntled. Victoria put her shirt back in order, stuck out her tongue at him, and sat by Juliet on the opposite side of the room. Artemis opened his mouth for another clever quip, but was interrupted by the excited squealings of his brothers, who were already tearing through the gift wrap on their presents.

"Hey, wait up, wait up!" Fowl Sr. protested, frantically trying to get the camera into position to capture his sons' ecstatic faces. Beckett and Myles got twin mini sedans to drive in, as well as many other toys, such as bug catching kits and tools for science experiments. The parents had wisely gotten both boys the same toys, varying only in color, to keep them from fighting. Juliet received a diamond necklace from the Fowls and a new set of boxing gloves from her brother. Butler was given a pet praying mantis by the twins and a new black tie from Juliet. Victoria assumed Artemis had gotten him something as well, but it was probably too dangerous to have in public. Possibly illegal, too.

Angeline received a joint present from all of her boys: a huge donation to a philanthropic enterprise in Haiti. Angeline gave Artemis Sr. a European cruise for two, and Artemis gave his father a deed to a new company he had acquired. The twins gave their daddy a puppy; how they had come by it, Angeline had no idea. Artemis received a new suit from his mother, a set of petri dishes from Juliet, and a yacht from his father.

"A yacht, really?" Artemis asked when Fowl Sr. tossed him the keys.

"You're a young man, Arty!" he chuckled, "you should be getting out on the town, having fun, meeting girls-" (Victoria's cheeks stung at this one) "- being a youth!"

"I have more important matters to attend to, Father," Artemis replied haughtily, but slipped the keys into his pocket. Victoria received a couple of finger-painted masterpieces from the twins, a dress from Angeline, and a bottle of blue hair-dye from Juliet, which Artemis showed immediate disapproval of. Victoria also gave out her presents at this time: matching tiny lab coats for the twins, a watercolor landscape for Mr. and Mrs. Fowl, glitter make-up for Juliet, and sunglasses for Butler. Butler even tried them on, to humor her.

"Very Matrix," she approved. Noticing that Artemis had not given her a gift, Victoria suddenly felt extremely embarrassed and indignant. She had thought that they had more give and take in their limited relationship, but she knew now she was foolish for expecting so much.

As Artemis's punishment (and to save face), she tried to sneak his gift bag back to her room. Unfortunately, Artemis wasn't going to let her leave him out.

"Where is my present?" Artemis's voice stopped her in the hallway to the foyer. Victoria sighed, more annoyed than usual by his all-knowing demeanor. She futilely hid his bag behind her back and asked,

"What present?" Artemis rolled his eyes.

"Look, even though I did not buy you anything I can tangibly give to you, there is no point in you withholding a present you've already paid for and wrapped up so nicely. So, why don't you just hand it over?" With a sigh, she surrendered the genius's ill-deserved gift. Even though Victoria was peeved that Artemis held such a double standard, she couldn't help smiling at the gleam in the genius's eyes as he opened his present. The gleam dimmed into a vengeful spark as Artemis removed the contents.

After her excursion in the arcade, Victoria had chosen a pair of hot pink sunglasses, a perpetual motion desk toy, and the book_ 1001 Obscure and Useless Facts._

"You really do enjoy provoking me, don't you?" his voice edged with a threat. Victoria frowned.

"Yes, but I put a lot of thought into those presents." She pushed past him to re-enter the living room. "At least I bought you one."

* * *

Holly sighed as she turned her cruiser onto Walnut Boulevard for the fourth time that evening. Even though it was Christmas on the surface, it was business as usual in Haven, and as Commander Root used to say,

"Crime never hibernates." Holly had hit a dead end in her investigation, so, instead of sitting at home staring blankly at her notes, she decided to get out and do her rounds. She frowned as she noticed a gnome coughing through his medical mask at a street corner. Flu season would be in full swing in about a month; the ideal time for a deadly virus to spread.

Speaking of which, Holly thought as she braked at an intersection. The culprit couldn't have handled the virus without some sort of protection, so how did he get it into the water supply, or wherever he dumped it? I suppose he wouldn't have to use biohazard gear if the virus were in a capsule of some kind, but that would be too obvious, especially with how high-tech the assembly lines are these days. So it would have to be added in some invisible, possibly liquid form- she rubbed her eyebrows- which would again require the protective equipment. How could someone get away with looking so ridiculous for such a prolonged amount of time? Unless- Holly's sat back in her pilot's chair as the revelation struck her in the chest. Unless the job already requires their employees to wear protective gear!

The LEP captain immediately employed an illegal U-turn and sped toward the TARA plant. She wondered if she should pick up Mulch, but reconsidered when she thought of all the coercing it took to get him to come with her in the first place. She didn't have time to argue with a self-centered dwarf, especially when she was only one question away from learning the source of the virus's distribution.

An hour later, Holly stood in front of the Koboi Environmental Plastics factory, wondering if she shouldn't have brought Mulch after all. Even though the past Opal had been put back in her decade and the present Koboi had been successfully and permanently incapacitated, going into any facility with the Koboi name attached to it made the hair on the back of the captain's neck stand on end. After the arrest of Opal, the Koboi Industries took a big dip in stocks and the companies struggled to keep up with Foaly's constant technological advances. However, they made enough money through more luxurious items such as tupperware and personal water purification devices that they were able to stay afloat. Koboi Plastics was one of these crucial markets. All of the ecologically safe and disposable plastics were manufactured there and sent to the other companies who used the plastics to package their products. One of these small companies was TARA spring water.

Flashing her badge at the front entrance's scanner, the doors to the facility opened and a desk employee greeted the esteemed guest.

"Captain Short," the nervous attendant chirruped, "how may we be of service? I assure you all our factories are up to code-"

"At ease, pixie," Holly said with a short wave of her hand. "I need access to the shipment level as part of an investigation unrelated to the ethics of this facility." She spotted the surveillance camera on the wall and looked at it pointedly as she said, "I assure you, on record, that I am not here to discredit or undermine the Koboi industries that provide such a service to the people of Haven." The pixie sighed in relief and, reaching over the front desk, pulled out a map and an all-access pass.

"This pass will expire in two hours. If you have not left by then, security will come escort you out. Is this reasonable, Captain?"

"More than," Holly nodded, taking the proffered items and half wishing security would escort her out now. Instead, the security guard on duty escorted her to the elevator. The bottle processing line she wanted to look into where plastic was melted down, formed, and dried, was in the basement. This was the only level where the employees needed protective gear to seal out the toxic fumes. Holly strapped on her helmet with its built-in air filter and pulled on some hazmat gloves before the elevator doors opened.

When Holly entered the basement level, she almost didn't believe she was underground- or, to put it accurately- more underground. Personally, she had never understood the need for basements in Haven homes, but she supposed when you live below the Earth's surface, a highrise can only go "up" so far. Holly walked over to the cooling and packing section of the assembly line. Here, freshly molded water bottles, tupperware, and other durable eco-plasticwares were blown dry by seven stories of blinking machines, then hand-packaged by fairies. Even though putting the fresh products in huge bins was not hazardous, the fumes from further down the line were still present. Apparently, the Koboi CEOs did not see fit to spend money on further safety precautions.

Which suited our perp just fine, Holly thought, her hand moving to where her Neutrino would be. Augh, that's right, she almost growled. They made me leave my Neutrino at the the front desk. Now all I've got is my buzz baton. The captain took her buzz baton out of its sheath and crept along the cat walks suspended between the huge plastic-making machines. Holly looked over the edge. Three floors below, employees scurried about like ants, and above her, too, were more levels of workers.

"Gods," Holly whispered. "It's like they _want_ this place to be a huge health hazard." She recovered from the initial shock as her detective side kicked in. "Now, I _see_ the packaging line, but how to _get_ there..."

"E-excuse me?" a small, muffled voice asked. It was a pixie employee, wearily eyeing Holly's buzz baton. "I-I'm the manager of this area, is there any thing I can help you with- officer?"

"Yes, I'm doing a bit of independent investigating, and wondered if you could show me where exactly the bottles are packaged?"

"S-sure. I mean, of course. This way." The fairy led her to a small lift, which, with a swipe of his access card, took them up about two meters to another platform. The assembly line they arrived at was nearly deserted.

"Where are all the workers?" Holly asked. "Oh, we've been testing out new automated equipment all week," the pixie informed her, a bit more comfortable now.

"The employees have been given some vacation time- without pay, I might add- until management verifies if the machines are more cost effective."

D'Arvit! Holly thought. Then the culprit is long gone by now. He was definitely here, though. This was the perfect set up for his purposes. She snatched a bottle from one of the robots to inspect it. There's a unique code imprinted on the bottom of each bottle. If the perp was using our victims as experiments, he could track his test subjects with these.

"I'm going to need a list of employees who used to work here," Holly ordered, replacing the bottle on the line. "And if you could tag any who kept to themselves or had suspicious behaviors, that would help a lot."

"Oh, I don't even need a list!" the manager replied with a wave of his hand, like he and Holly were old friends. "There was this one guy who always carried this little purse with him- had a conniption if I even tried touching it! A few weeks ago I caught him doing something funny with the bottles. They seemed untainted, so I let it go. This is a low-profile job, so we get a lot of weirdos in here, ya know?"

"And what was this 'weirdo's name?" Holly asked, excited and impatient.

"Oh, it was- hey!" The manager called to someone behind Holly. "You don't have-" All of a sudden, the manager was lying on the floor with a huge hole in his chest. Holly didn't even have time to turn around before the culprit attached something to her helmet, causing it to spark and press heavily in on her temples. Then, everything went black.

* * *

"Should I?" Victoria sat in front of her laptop computer, staring at the Skype icon at the bottom of the screen. "I mean, I'll have to eventually. They're expecting me to call." But, being the sensitive artist that she was, she thought her family was disappointed with her about the whole Christmas debacle. "It's a sad day when a Christian can't flippin remember when Christmas is," she grumbled. Suddenly, Skype notified her of a call from her family.

Wow, what timing, she thought, then braced herself as she clicked the "accept" button.

"Did we get the right time-?" A mass of faces crowded the small screen, all talking at once.

"Ohmigosh, Vicky, we love the presents you sent us!" her sister, Eden, squealed.

"Yeah! I've been wanting this video game for a while now." one of her brothers yelled.

"I'm not even sure what mine is..." Angelique, the other sister, grumbled.

"Children!" their father admonished over the chaos. "Didn't you have something _else_ you wanted to say?"

"Oh yeah-" "Merry Christmas, Victoria!" her whole family chorused, their faces filling her entire window.

"Merry- Christmas..." she replied, utterly confused. Her mother noticed the look and smiled.

"I was a bit confused myself, before your friend called," she said.

"F-friend?" Her mother nodded.

"We actually received the presents yesterday, but he told us not to tell you about it until Christmas morning. It- it is morning there, right?"

"Uhh- It's afternoon, but close enough." Victoria's brows furrowed and a blush climbed her cheeks. "But I'm still not sure I understand. Just to clarify, we are talking about Artemis Fowl, right?"

"But of course." The answer came from the doorway, where the person in question lounged against the doorjamb. "Who else has the resources- and the kindness of heart- to coordinate such a feat?"

Two days ago you would have be my _last_ guess, Victoria thought, but she just gave him a flat-browed glance. Artemis read the look and opened his mouth to retort, but Victoria's mother got to the reprimand first.

"Victoria! Be more polite! This young man did us a great kindness!" She ran a hand through her dark brown hair and sighed. "You really haven't grown much, have you? Still, I'm relieved such a kind man is watching out for you." The artist twitched.

"Please, Mom. Don't judge my situation so quickly." Now he'll be even more of a pain to live with.

"Yes, Mrs. Bering. I'm afraid you don't have the most honest impression of me." Artemis cut in, surprising Victoria with his boldness and nonchalant manner. "Your daughter is very adept, and has held her own well in our hectic household."

"Yes, well, she's had a lot of practice." Mr. Bering said, giving up on controlling the chaos ensuing behind them. "Honey, we should probably go now; we've got guests coming over later, so we should start cleaning." Mrs. Bering looked back at the living room, which was littered with wrapping paper and other trash, and sighed.

"I guess you're right." The resigned look on the mother's face softened as she turned back to the screen. "Call us more often, OK Victoria? We miss you like crazy."

"Uh, yeah, I will," her daughter stuttered. "I miss you guys, too." Victoria slowly closed the laptop, rebellious tears stinging her eyes.

"So that was your family." Artemis mused. "Charming, for Americans. Though I'm curious, how _do_ you manage five younger siblings?"

"How do you manage being so sneaky?" Victoria said, and a few tears escaped, leaving hot trails down her face. Embarrassed, she immediately wiped them away, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes to keep any more from falling. Artemis's heart panged again and he froze, not sure whether to step forward to comfort her or retreat.

"Ms. Bering, why-"

"Thank you." She interrupted, her hands still over her eyes. "Thanks so much, Artemis. I didn't know I would be this relieved about some silly Christmas presents, but I am. You really helped me out here, and I don't even want to begin to think about how much this cost you." Artemis shrugged, looking over his shoulder in an attempt to control his speeding heart.

"It was my pleasure. After all, what kind of host would I be if I neglected to give my guest a Christmas gift?" Victoria chuckled, withdrawing her hands.

"A rude host indeed." She sighed, then smiled at him. "Funny, who thought a Grinch like you would save Christmas?" Artemis's mouth quirked upward as well as he replied,

"Bah Humbug."


	11. Yay! Gore! OR Victoria is Bored

"Artemis, your father and I are leaving now for the McMillen's charity event," Angeline declared, popping her head into her eldest son's study. "Juliet already put your brothers to bed, but that doesn't mean- what are you reading?" Memorizing his page number, Artemis closed the book and read the title as if he didn't remember it;

"_1001 Obscure and Useless Facts_. Vic- Miss Bering got it for me."

"Oh, she's such a sweet girl," Angeline smiled, then looked sternly at her son. "You should really be more nice to her." Artemis smirked. He wouldn't tell her about his gift to the artist; it might ruin his reputation as the cynic in the family.

"Yes, Mother, I'll work on that." He opened the book again and made a great show of continuing to read. Angeline sighed.

"We'll be back late. Do I have to tell you to behave?" She added the last sentence half-playfully.

"No, no." He replied, not looking up from the page. When he heard the door to his study close and his mother's soft footsteps fade down the hallway, Artemis reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out the pair of pink sunglasses Victoria gave him. "Sweet girl, huh?" He slipped them back on and grinned. "Not the words I would use, but she's an interesting character nonetheless."

Artemis was still reading when his cell phone rang.

"Well, if it isn't Foaly!" He greeted upon answering. The genius's face paled as the centaur gave the reason for his call. The book fell from his hand as Artemis whispered,

"Holly is... missing?"

* * *

"Where _is_ it?" Victoria groaned as she rummaged around in the trunk of the Bentley. "I'm surprised my cell phone lasted this long without a charger, but if I'd known I'd lost the friggin thing-" Even though she'd had a long day of Christmas activities, Victoria forced herself to work on the mural. After all, with the Fowl parents at a social event and their sons in their respective rooms, she could work uninterrupted. Who knew when that would happen again.

However, she was so tired she ended up calling someone just to stay alert.

"Aawwwww!" Charlie crooned. "So he got you a Christmas present after all! I thought it was strange that I got my present from you on time- though I don't want to know how he found my address."

"Anything can be found on the Internet these days."

"True." Charlie quickly changed the subject back to what interested her. "So how did Christmas go? Did Arty-boy like his gift? Did you get any mistletoe action?" Victoria blushed.

"Thankfully, the mistletoe tradition seems to end in America." the artist informed her. " And he liked his present... I think. It amused him, at least."

"'Amused' isn't good enough!" Her friend protested so loudly that Victoria turned down the speaker phone. "_Especially_ if he went all out on your present. I'll bet he's actually disappointed!"

"Gosh, thanks," Victoria grumbled.

"These rich boy types are very fickle and bore easily," Charlie continued, not catching the sarcasm. "Sure you're a good chase, but if you keep playing the timid artist and don't give him new obstacles to overcome, he'll soon get bored with you toss you aside! Here's what you've got to do-" Victoria was almost glad that the phone chose that moment to die. At least, until she realized that the charger was missing.

She scoured her whole room before considering that perhaps her charger never made it out of the Bentley. Having searched the rest of the car thoroughly, she pulled down the back of the back seat, which lead into the trunk.

"Ugh," she grunted. "I really should have brought a flashlight with me. Stupid!" With her body halfway in the spacious trunk, her head hit something. "A light?" She clicked it on, illuminating the storage space. "And an air vent, too. Why the heck would they need this stuff in a trunk?"

"Hurry, Butler!" Artemis's voice, much shriller than usual, cut through the dark of the garage. Victoria turned off the trunk light for fear of being caught in such an embarrassing position. "No, don't bother with that!" the heir was saying, "The LEP will have weapons enough! Get in the Bentley, now!"

Weapons? What's going on? Victoria wondered. Wait, he said the _Bentley_. Oh crap. The intruder shuffled the rest of the way into the trunk and pulled the seat back up behind her. She winced as the seat clicked into place.

"I really hope that click doesn't mean that I'm locked in here," she whimpered, then fell silent when she heard two car doors open. There was a hard thump as Artemis threw himself into the back seat and slammed the door shut.

"How long has she been missing, Foaly?" Artemis asked as the car backed out of the garage and sped off. The stowaway braced her legs against the walls of the trunk to keep from being thrown around.

"Her transmitter went offline about two hours ago," a metallic voice reported worriedly. "The perps must have given her quite a jolt to short-circuit my ware. That's why I called you."

"You were right to do so," Artemis replied, and his broken tone almost brought tears to Victoria's eyes. "I'll have her location once I get in range."

"What? In range? Do you really think your equipment could withstand anything mine couldn't?"

"Yes. In fact, I can guarantee it. Holly agreed to try out an experimental bug for me a couple months back. It's indestructible, but one of the side effects is she could not remove it herself, so I'm confident she still has it on her. If you are interested in my design, I can sell you the patent, though the price will not be cheap."

"Gods, Mud Boy," Foaly brayed, "This is pathetic. Why can't just admit you're worried, like a normal person?" There was a pause, and Victoria could feel Artemis's slump slightly against the seat.

"I thought that went without saying."

* * *

Holly woke up some time later in a dark room with a white hot florescent lamp glaring down on her. She was strapped to a faux leather armchair, and her hands were sealed inside bags of animal fat. Gross. She couldn't see anything outside her little ring of light, but the room smelled heavily of blood and chemicals. As she regained her senses, her memories also flooded back. They must have used some kind of high-tech hacking device with incredible power to hotwire my helmet, she thought. The pressure from the helmet mixed with the resulting fumes from the fuses must have knocked me out. She looked down to do a damage assessment. Her body was generally unharmed, but the LEP uniform was four shades darker, even scorched in some places.

Whatever shorted out my helmet must have burned out my suit, too, Holly grimaced. This tech was expensive; Foaly will not be pleased with me. But whoever these goons are, they sure covered all their bases. Holly cleared her throat. It was time to meet her captors.

"Quite an evil lair you've got here," she commented. "Like a set straight out of a lame Mud-people crime film. Do I get my one phone call?"

"Very clever, Ms. Short," a high-pitched voice replied from the darkness. "Usually I would be offended by such quips, but since you do not yet know how dangerous your situation is, I'll let it slide. I'll have my revenge soon enough."

"Revenge for what?"

"Oh, everything." The voice said nonchalantly. "On the humans, on you, and on that larvae, Artemis Fowl." Holly started. This villain knew Artemis? "Oh, that strike a cord with you, captain? Yes, I will have my revenge on the infamous Artemis Fowl. First I will wipe out all of his loved ones with my virus, taking care not to infect him so he will have the pleasure of watching them die. Then, I will kill him as well." The voice paused, as if in thought. "As for you, Ms. Short, I will most likely kill you tonight. Unless, that is, you give me the information I need."

"Not a chance," Holly hissed.

"Aw, but you don't even know what I need yet."

"Doesn't matter. The LEP doesn't make deals with terrorists, and I don't make deals with scumbags."

"And here I thought this would be a more cheery reunion."

"Well, you have a really deluded view of 'cheery'," Holly growled, then did a double-take. "Wait, _reunion_?"

"I'm not surprised you haven't figured it out yet," the voice said. "After all, you left me in quite an inhibiting position. A normal villain would not have overcome the position I now find myself in. But I never stopped plotting, never ceased in planning and executing my revenge."

"Who _are_ you?" Holly asked, squinted into the darkness. "PITS! ROLL ME!" She heard wheels squeaking, and a swivel chair came into the light. In the seat of the chair sat a fat, black guinea pig, a translator of some kind wrapped around its neck. Holly knew she should laugh; she was being threatened by an oversized rodent that couldn't even use a proper toilet. But all the elf could think of was the memory of cold steel through her abdomen, with a cruel, demonic face leering down at her, and the complete helplessness, knowing that not even her magic could save her. Her heart nearly stopped from newfound horror as she whispered,

"Abbott."

"Oh, she remembers my name, how touching." The guinea-Abbott clasped his paws in mock appreciation. Holly shrugged, looking away to gather her wits.

"Sure, you've gotten a bit shorter and," she tried to grin, but only managed to grit her teeth, "Dare I say, melodramatic than the last time we met, but I never forget a criminal who killed me. If it were up to me, your punishment would have been harsher."

"My punishment is more than _harsh_!" her foe exploded, his fur bristling with anger. "Do you _know_ how many witless students prodded me and used me as their test subject? Or how humiliating it was to live in such squalid quarters, knowing that you deserve a mansion, and those who feed and torment you are not even fit to be your slaves?" Abbott paced on the chair seat, agitated by the unpleasant memories. "Or, worst of all, to be a superior mind trapped in the body of a rodent! How I miss my magnificent demon body!" Finally, he turned back to the elf. "That's why I brought you here, Captain Short. Having worked with Section Eight, you know the progress made on their time tunnel research, and have the passcodes to files on experiments with mind melding. As a plus, you can also tell me where and when would be the best time to commandeer a shuttle, though I could figure that out myself if you're feeling less than generous."

"'Less than generous' doesn't even begin to cover it, you rat!" Holly growled. "You're trying to tear apart everything I believe in, not to mention kill my best friend. That's hardly incentive to help you."

"How about this-" Abbott pressed a button on the arm of his chair. Suddenly, Holly was on her back, squinting into the spotlight above her. Abbott rolled over to a metal table a couple feet from Holly's head where an impressive number of knives, screwdrivers, and other implements of torture were arrayed. "You're going to die tonight." Abbott informed her matter-of-factly. "That is just a given. But, if you don't cooperate-" A mechanical hand stretched from his chair and picked up a long, serrated knife "-then perhaps I'll get to have a little fun." Abbott grinned, confident that he had scared the captain out of her good intentions. However, his delusion was swiftly rectified when a spray of her spit hit his face.

"Do what you want to me," she growled. "Physical pain is nothing compared to the pain of guilt and betrayal. I will not help you harm anyone, especially Artemis." Abbott puffed up, his fur on end with fury. Before Holly could prepare herself, the machine's arm surged downward and buried the serrated knife in her forearm. Holly bit back a scream as her magic worked frantically to seal the wound.

"Oh, did I forget to mention?" he commented off-handedly, twisting the knife in the wound, "These are just regular old steel tools. No anti-magic protection involved. However, I think the magic problem," he grinned as Holly's blood ran from the open wound and dripped onto the floor, "will be taken care of shortly."

* * *

"She's in an abandoned apartment complex on the other end of Haven!" Artemis proclaimed, bursting into Foaly's op room. The technical genius, already paranoid, nearly jumped out of his furry skin.

"Whoa, Mud Boy, you'll give a fairy a heart attack with entrances like that!" the centaur complained, clambering out of his specially-made swivel chair to meet his friends. "So spill; how do you know where Holly is?"Artemis showed Foaly his handheld, where a red dot pulsed in the northern sector of Haven. Foaly rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I figured as much. But how'd you manage to track her in the first place?"

"Long story short, Foaly, I constructed a homing device with a stealth ore casing. I then implanted the chip in the body where there were already natural crevices, so my own method of finding stealth ore would be more difficult. The chip is equipped with an omnisensor so I can detect her with any device that has GPS." Foaly frowned.

"Doesn't an omnisensor require a satellite to function?"

"Yes, but it was easy enough to instal one of my static satellite prototypes in Haven. But that's hardly important right now," Artemis said quickly, irritated by these unnecessary questions. "We need a transport. Butler and I will go alone; the less People to put in danger the better, and we don't know who we're dealing with. A shuttle will also have to be prepped to leave for when we return; if Holly is injured, she will need a jolt of magic ASAP."

"Why are you so sure?" Foaly asked, spy satellite temporarily forgotten. Artemis sighed, rubbing his eyebrows together with a thumb and index finger.

"Because," he replied, "she was trying to use up her magic so she could come visit me."

Wow, Mud Boy," Foaly mused. "You've become quite the lady killer lately."

"Bad choice of words." Butler grunted, noticing his ward's shoulders hunch a bit more at the comment. Foaly winced.

"Oh, gods. I'm-"

"Not the time," Artemis interrupted, recovering from his momentary lapse of composure. Foaly nodded, relieved to be off the hook.

"I have a police pod waiting for you out back. I'll just enter the coordinates in the autopilot from here, and you'll be good to go."

* * *

Abbott, while pondering where he should strike next to inflict the most pain, noticed a glint in one of the officer's previous wounds. Holly groaned as he plucked the offending object from the tissue with a bloody paw.

"Oh," he muttered, turning the homing chip over in the light. "Looks like we'll be having company."

_Artemis_... Holly thought through the haze of pain. Her magic was nearly spent, but if Artemis was on the way, she still had a chance. Mustering up all of her courage, the elf willed her magic at curb, keeping it from sewing back together the gaping wounds in her chest and abdomen. The pain will only get worse from here on in, Holly grunted. The suppressed magic began to burn at the back of her mind, but she held it at bay.

I don't want to be completely tapped out when Arty gets here. Then I'd just be baggage to him and Butler, and give Abbott a considerable advantage. The villain in question, distracted by the strange chip, returned to the captain upon hearing her groans.

"Oh, out of magic now, are we?" He sighed. He crushed the chip with a robotic claw. "Well, I guess my fun is over now, but it's for the best." The mechanical arm raised a long skewer from the table and poised it over Holly's heart. A fire lit in the guinea pig's eyes. "This time, Captain," he said triumphantly, "you will _stay_ dead."

* * *

Artemis practically leapt from the police pod before it had even stopped completely, the handheld in front of his nose as he followed the GPS the last block to an abandoned apartment complex.

"Which room, Artemis?" Butler asked.

"Let me focus the search range-" Artemis paused, puzzled. Then he blanched, his face paler than usual. Before Butler could ask what was wrong;

"The chip- just went offline." He blinked. "But in order to get to it, the criminal would have had to-" Artemis sprinted to the nearest building and threw open the door.

"HOLLY!"

The apartments were completely barren, the wallpaper pealing and mold creeping through the linoleum floors.

"Artemis, look." The wall to their left had a large hole in it where a door used to be, making it possible to see into the apartment next door. Plastered across the whole floor of that apartment block was not mold, but a layer of aluminum foil. To keep the LEP from sniffing out their location, Artemis realized. Aloud, he said,

"They're in the basement." With Butler taking the lead, his specially-issued Neutrino drawn, the genius and his bodyguard raced unceremoniously down the nearest flight of stairs and burst through the cellar door. It took a moment for Artemis to understand the scene before him. Holly was strapped to a gurney of sorts, her body marred with multiple wounds and covered in her own blood. The sight nearly made Artemis faint. A strange contraption that looked like a swivel chair with robot arms was poised over her, and one of those arms was holding- Without further hesitation, Butler bumped the Neutrino's firepower up to "burned to a cinder" and fired. The deadly arm fell to the ground with a clang, severed from the armchair by the nearly volcanic blast.

"Artemis- Fowl-" A high-pitched voice hissed, "How is it that _every time_ I'm so close to taking my revenge, _you_ always come in and ruin my plans? Really-" Butler took aim again as the chair turned toward them "-who knew a human could be so troublesome?" Artemis frowned as the pieces are came together in his mind.

"Abbott," he stated. Holly, her strength somewhat renewed by the appearance of her allies, released the magic she was reserving. No, don't heal, she thought desperately. The cuffs! Magic can't work in fat, but it can boil it!

"Now, don't act like you're not surprised." Abbott shook angrily, his rage overcoming his composure. "There was no way you could have known that I was the mastermind behind this epidemic."

"No," Artemis admitted. "Though I did consider you, briefly. To be honest, I didn't think you were smart enough to come up with something so complicated. I suppose I underestimated you." Butler frowned. He thought the young heir had learned to pick his fights.

"Artemis, stay behind me."

"How- dare you!" Abbott bristled, his self-control shattered by the Mud boy's insolence. "I'll teach you to look down on me!" The other arm of his chair drew out a soft-nosed laser pistol, and both the boy and his bodyguard froze.

Suddenly, Holly jerked up from her confines, throwing herself on the armchair to put off its aim.

"Artemis, run! He's after you!" But Artemis took advantage of Abbott's momentary limitation to run to a desk where a bunch of notes were arranged.

"No!" Abbott screamed when he noticed Artemis retreating with his documents. "My field notes! Give them _**back**_!" Butler, perhaps too confident in Holly's hold on the situation, didn't have time to pull Artemis behind him again before Abbott fired.

Artemis's back arched with the impact, the papers he had risked his life to obtain splaying across the concrete caught the youth before he hit the ground, and for the first time, Holly saw tears stream down the massive man's chiseled face.

"Artemis.."

* * *

After an hour of banging on the trunk lid and screaming with all her might, Victoria concluded that either the trunk was soundproof, or they were in the middle of nowhere.

"Or both," she supposed aloud. She tapped out a rhythm on the roof with her knuckles, humming a few measures of "Good Girls Go Bad" to amuse herself. Her volume soon escalated in her boredom, going from humming to full out singing, kicking the roof of the trunk in time with the bass.

"**I was hanging in the corner with my five best friends!~ I knew that you were trouble, but I couldn't resist! You make them good girls go ba-**" In her fervor, one of her fists accidentally hit the overhead light, causing the light's cover to crack and fall on her. "Ow, ow!" she whimpered, sucking her injured hand and turning on the light to survey the damage. No harm was done to the light itself, but

"There are sure a lot of random wires here... wait a minute." She turned on her side, toward the lock of the truck, to see if she could short it out by cutting a cord. Unfortunately, none of the wires to the lock were exposed.

"Dang it," Victoria muttered, then reconsidered, looking back at the light. "Cutting those wires is out, but what if I gave the lock a good, electric jolt? I'll have to work in the dark, though, to avoid shocking myself." For the next thirty minutes Victoria busied herself with biting through the wires attached to the overhead light. When she finally succeeded, however, the wire she had cut wasn't long enough to reach the locking mechanism. "Gahh!" Victoria yelled, kicking against the back hood in frustration. Just then, her foot hit something in the gutter of the trunk. When her hands rediscovered it she immediately knew what it was. She laughed at the irony.

"My cell phone charger. This'll do." After cutting her cell phone cord with her teeth, Victoria twisted the light and cell phone wires together. Together, they easily reached the front of the trunk. Twisting the loose end around the lock, Victoria backed as far away from the front as she could, using the spare tire as a shield.

"I really hope this works," she said as she turned on the light. With a sharp crack and a shower of sparks, the lock short-circuited and the trunk flew open, dislocating the wires from each other with a snap. The captive crawled out of the trunk like a bear coming out of hibernation, blinking in the starlight and breathing in the night air thankfully.

"Where- am I?" Victoria whispered as she climbed out of her prison, conscience of her volume now that she was out of the soundproof cell. She closed the trunk and, realizing it wouldn't latch, leaned against it. "Wherever this is, it's really beautiful," she commented, looking over the mystical hills. "I wonder what Artemis had to do _here_." Uneasiness stirred in the artist's stomach at the mention of Artemis's name.

"They've been gone a while," she muttered, her throat tightening with anxiety. "I hope he's OK."

* * *

Abbott swore when the human boy sat up, apparently not mortally wounded by the softnose laser. The villain took stock of the situation. He did not get the all-important information he needed from Holly for his final initiative, and the boy nuisance had seen his research. That could prove to be problematic. However, they were both too injured to catch him if he tried to escape, and the man-beast wasn't an issue, since he had managed to at least injure the bodyguard's master. Besides, he still had his ace in the hole. It was time to blow that popsicle stand.

"SLAVE!" he yelled, activating the small hover-craft built in to his chair. Grove Pits, who was conducting some experiments in a separate room down the hall, immediately threw all of his things in a bag specially set aside for such situations. He sprinted out the door after his employer, who was already ahead of him, zooming toward the stealth ore escape pod. Butler watched grimly as the villain escaped, then was distracted by Artemis trying to stand.

"No, I can do it," Artemis grunted when the bodyguard tried to help him. "Get Holly. She's reached- her limit." Butler frowned.

"And what about your limit, Artemis?" His ward chuckled darkly.

"I'm not a child anymore. Besides- I've had worse." Butler couldn't remember any wounds so severe that Holly hadn't been around to heal immediately, but perhaps he hadn't been there for them. The thought made the manservant shudder. However, he heeded his master's order and picked up the LEP officer who lay, spent, over the automated armchair. Meanwhile, Artemis retrieved all of the data he'd lost in his fall.

"Now," he said, his voiced edged with a sense of urgency, "We've got- about 20 seconds before the whole building is rinsed by the- biobomb strapped under that office desk." Butler rolled his eyes, the stress of the situation causing his nerves to strain.

"Artemis, you could have mentioned that earlier," he groaned, scooping up his principle and dashing up the stairs.

"Well- I couldn't very well tell you while Abbott was within earshot, could I?" Artemis grunted, one arm tucked around his aching side. "Now, we'll- need to make it to the cruiser- before the bomb detonates. I'm sure Abbott set the radius of the blast wide to be- doubly certain."

Butler replied with a determined yell, sounding like a deadly guerilla warrior as he stampeded out of the delapidated apartment complex and down the street. They arrived at the cruiser with seven seconds left on the clock.

"Drive, man!" Artemis yelled when Butler set them down gently in the back seat. "Seating arrangements won't matter when we're bio-rinsed!" The butler obeyed his ward, not even putting the police pod completely in gear before slamming on the accelerator, his huge body putting extra pressure on the small, fairy-sized instruments. Artemis held his breath as a plume of blue mist that was the biobomb rose behind them and fell forward like a tidal wave, chasing the cruiser.

"Faster, Butler!" his voice rose higher as the wave grew closer. Butler grunted in agreement, though they both knew the pod could not go any faster. Finally, the blue mist hit the invisible wall that was the blast radius, and the blue death dissipated as if it had never been. Upon their arrival at Police Plaza minutes later, a team of warlock healers stormed the vehicle, ready to do emergency surgery. However, when they saw the conditions of the backseats' occupants, they backed up a couple of steps.

"We can sew up the boy," the head warlock told Butler, then repeated for Foaly when he came out to join them, "but the officer needs a natural magic infusion, stat."

"Then get us to the surface immediately." Artemis demanded, pulling himself out of the car. Immense pain was evident on his face, but so was his determination.

"I'll be fine until Holly can heal me herself, but right now we do not have the luxury of time. Foaly," he turned to the centaur, who jumped a little at the mud boy's forcefulness. "The shuttle?"

"Waiting in the port," the techie replied, a little dazed. Artemis nodded.

"Butler, could you bring Holly, please?" Having given this last command, Artemis headed toward the shuttle dock on foot, Abbott's paperwork held protectively against his chest. The warlocks, now feeling a bit disgruntled and useless, meandered off.

"I never noticed before, but the little genius has really grown up, hasn't he?" Foaly commented, rubbing the back of his neck. Butler sighed.

"More than you know." But he thought to himself, I'm afraid his new do-it-myself attitude will get us in even more trouble. Pushing these uneasy thoughts aside, the bodyguard focused on lifting Holly onto a hover-stretcher without reopening any of her wounds. As he helped to arrange her carefully on the stretcher, Foaly realized just how bad his friend's injuries were.

"Abbott did this to her?" he asked, disgusted. Butler barely nodded, and Foaly cursed. "And he must be behind the epidemic, too. D'Arvit! Sometimes I wonder why we even keep the criminals alive anymore." Butler raised an eyebrow, and the fairy scrambled to explain himself. "They only escape and more people get hurt. Are our consciences and moral code really worth risking innocent lives?" The big man put a large hand on the centaur's shoulder.

"The People are not to blame for this, friend," he said sternly, though his eyes were full of understanding. "This is a Abbott's choice, from the mind of a demented psychopath."

"Yes," Foaly admitted, "but we could have prevented it."

* * *

About an hour after escaping from her unintentional prison, Victoria became tired and bored, and ended up back in the trunk to sleep and wait out the boredom. Fortunately (or unfortunately, as she knew it would be when they got back to the manor), the trunk lid would not lock because of her little experiment. As a result she wasn't in danger of locking herself in again, but it refused to close all the way.

A while later, the sound of urgent voices came from over a hillock, waking the stowaway from a fragile slumber. Victoria recognized Artemis's voice instantly and pulled the trunk closed.

"Careful, Butler!" She heard him say. "She's very- ahh!" His short, breathless cry startled Victoria so much she almost jumped. He was hurt, she could tell that much. What had they been _doing_ all night?

"Artemis!" Butler barked. "Are you sure you'll be-"

"Yes, I'm sure," the genius said testily. "You know very well that my wound is by no means fatal. She is the priority."

She? Victoria frowned. Does Artemis have a partner? How badly is _she_ hurt? She felt Artemis shuffle- very slowly- into the backseat. Butler placed something- someone- else in the back as well and shut the door. When Butler started the car, the purr of the motor almost made Victoria sigh with relief.

"Head to- the usual spot, Butler." Artemis instructed. "I brought some acorns in preparation for such an event. It should be simple for you to-"

"Yes, I understand, Artemis." Butler interrupted, which the spy in the trunk thought a bit strange. She had never heard Butler interrupt any of the Fowls before. "I'll take care of everything. Now, get some rest." She heard Artemis sag down in his seat, apparently acquiescing to Butler's request.

Victoria, realizing how tired she was, took Butler's advice as well, though she made sure to keep one finger looped around the trunk's lock to keep the lid closed.

* * *

The next thing Victoria knew, Butler was shaking her awake.

"Miss Bering," he said gravely.

"Ummmm...?" She blinked back sleep lazily, then she realized that she was still in the trunk of the Bentley, which was now in the Fowl garage. And Butler had just discovered her hiding place.

"Oh! Oh my gosh!" she gasped, sitting up, "I am so sorry! I didn't hear or see anything! I was just looking for my cell phone charger, and then I got locked in-" she looked guiltily at the cannibalized charger and overhead light, then pretended she hadn't. "A-a-and anyway, I wasn't trying to spy or anything, so please, don't-"

"I'm not going to turn you in, Miss Bering." Butler said softly. "And I'm willing to cover for the damage you've done to the Fowl's vehicle... if you'll help me with something." Victoria nodded desperately, sweat rolling down her forehead. Her clasped hands were clammy.

"Anything!"

* * *

**Happy Thanksgiving! You get an overdose of your regular fanfic goodness!**

**Why?**

**Well, it's definitely not because I've been writing like the wind. I just haven't been good at updating on this site. ^^;**

**Anyway, enjoy!**


	12. Bedridden Discoveries

**Tried a new formatting style. Tell me if you like this better. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

"This woman must be pretty important for Butler to have to put her in Artemis's bedroom." Victoria commented to herself a little while later, wringing hot water from a washrag into a bronze basin. "It's probably like Fort Knox in there. But there are a lot of spare rooms in this manor, so why does Artemis have to stay-" she blushed "-in _mine_?"

Victoria paced around the queen-sized bed, trying to figure out the best way to approach the sleeping super-genius. She had never had a half-naked boy in her bed before, let alone a boy she liked. Artemis moaned softly in his sleep, jolting the amateur nurse from her nervous fit. She gently laid the washcloth across his furrowed brow. Unsure of what do with herself, she sat down on a hard-backed chair drawn up next to the bed to wait until he needed her next. Nursing really wasn't her cup of tea- or coffee, as the case may be. Of course she wanted to help Artemis any way she could, but taking care of him in such- close quarters- had only been part of her deal with Butler to keep her stowaway adventure a secret.

"_How did you know I was in the trunk?" Victoria had asked after helping Butler dress Artemis's wounds and tuck him safely away in her room. As they exited, yhe bedroom door closed with a soft 'click' behind them, and Butler pulled a small grin._  
_"Simple, really. Did you think a respectable man wouldn't notice when the trunk lock on his favorite car has been tampered with?"_  
_"Oh." Victoria looked down at the crimson carpet in shame. "Sorry."_  
_"No more apologies. Here," the manservant gave her a small orange medicine container with two pills inside. "These are for Artemis when he wakes up. They'll help with the pain."_  
_"Y-yeah, his wounds looked pretty bad," Victoria bit her lip and pocketed the pills. "By the way, what story are we giving his parents about all this?" Butler thought about it for a moment._  
_"I'm not sure, but certainly you can come up with something." With a smile that the artist had thought was kind of smug, the butler departed._

"Yeah, he's totally mad about the car." Victoria decided with a pout as she watched her patient sleep.

* * *

Artemis woke up a few hours later, irritated by the light streaming through the cracks in the window curtains. The first thing he noticed was a dull ache in his exterior oblique muscles. As the ache became more pronounced, more and more unpleasant images came unbidden from the youth's subconscious;  
An underground lab... a gun... biobombs...  
"Holly!" Artemis suddenly remembered, panic racking his frame. His abdomen flexed as he attempted to sit up, but the pain in his side shot up to his brain, overpowering his urge to move.  
"Uhhh?" someone groaned by Artemis's right elbow. He snatched his arm away, then immediately regretted it.  
"GYAHH!" He yelped as the ache intensified, and Victoria, who had fallen asleep with her head on the bed, snapped to attention.  
"Ohmygosh, are you OK?" Artemis grimaced, perplexed through his injury. Victoria? What was she doing here? And since she had seen him like this, how much did she know? He swayed, ready to collapse because of his wound, but Victoria's arm broke his fall. Artemis leaned into the steady support of her shoulder, too spent to even consider the social ramifications.  
"Oh crap," she whimpered. "My first patient, and he dies on me. Stay with me, Artemis!" She re-situated so that she supported him with just a hand braced against his collarbone. The lost of body heat caused the invalid to shiver. "I'm sorry!" she said, biting her lower lip. "Just another sec- the washcloth, where is the washcloth-" As she searched the bunched sheets for the illusive washrag, Artemis, only supported on one side, turned into Victoria until his head rested on her shoulder once again.  
"Victoria-?" She jumped at the sound of his weak, sleep-laden voice. "Y-yes?"  
"Perhaps you should lay me down before you push me out of the bed completely."  
"Oh, right. Sorry!" Holding Artemis's head in one hand and supporting his back with the other, Victoria awkwardly laid him on the pillows. He sighed in relief.  
"Do you have any medication for me?" he asked.  
"Oh, yeah, I do!" She reached into her hoodie pocket and extracted the pills. "Here you go. Wait a sec, and I'll get you a glass of water." After she had left, Artemis looked about the room, trying to figure out what had transpired since they had arrived at the manor. The quarters he currently occupied belonged to Victoria, which explained her presence. His staying here made sense if Holly was still aboveground, though her wounds must have been more severe than he initially thought for her to have an extensive stay. However, even under such duress, being in the artist's room like he belonged there made his heart stutter. Artemis frowned. This sensation came up more and more lately, but he had tested for every heart condition and they all came back negative. So what could be causing such a reaction inside him?  
He was still pondering this conundrum when his mother burst into the room. The bang the doors made against the cherry oak walls nearly took care of Artemis's heart problem permanently.  
"Artemis, Butler told us you were in here, and- oh my-" her son's crippled physique and flushed face were immediately obvious to the seasoned parent. She gasped in horror. "Artemis, what happened?"Artemis chuckled, trying to sit up.  
"You know, Mother- no matter what anyone else says, I'm convinced that you- will be the death of me-" Angeline ignore his witticisms.  
"Your side, is- is that _blood_?" Artemis looked down at the gauze bandage as if he were seeing it for the first time.  
"Yes, Mother, I believe it is."  
"Don't get snippy with your mother, young man." Artemis Sr. chastised. "We demand an explanation!" The genius looked up at his parents, both standing in front of the bed, leaning forward with hands on their hips like they were reenacting a bad sitcom.  
"And I shall give you one," Artemis replied, his mind scrabbling for a good lie. "Just-"  
"Here's your water, Artemis!" Victoria reappeared suddenly, crossing between parents and child with uncharacteristic boldness. Artemis blinked. There it was, the heart condition! Could the speeding and clenching of his heart have something to do with this American art student? "Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Fowl," Victoria clasped her hands in furtive repentance as Artemis nonchalantly took his pills, though his head tilted toward the conversation in interest.  
"This is all my fault," the artist continued. "Artemis and I got into a fight last night, and he left to go yachting to clear his head."  
"Yachting?" Mr. Fowl frowned. "That late at night?"  
"I know I should have tried to stop him, but I didn't know he'd go do something so stupid," Victoria mewled. "He didn't even take Butler." Both parents looked at their oldest in shock, and he shrugged.  
"I needed to get out of the house, and Butler was busy on an errand," he said, taking another drink of water. "Besides, you should talk to the company you bought that yacht from, Father. Dreadfully hard to maneuver."  
"Anyway," Victoria rejoined, not wanting Artemis to steal her thunder, "Butler and I searched everywhere before finally finding the yacht stranded on a sandbar." Her head bobbed down, as if weighed by guilt. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't get in fights with my employers, but I never imagined my actions would hurt anyone! So, I insisted I take care of him until he gets better." Both parents blinked, surprised at their son's out-of-character blunder and Victoria's forwardness. Then, Angeline smiled a knowing smile and nodded.  
"Of course. That seems fair." She looked over Victoria's shoulder to where her son was finishing off his water. "Rest up and get better, all right, sweetheart? Don't rush yourself. We wouldn't want to have to make a trip to the hospital." Artemis gave his mother a quizzical look.  
"Yes- all right." With that, the parents hastily exited, and Victoria was sure she heard Angeline giggle as they retreated down the hall. She shook her head, then turned back toward her patient.  
"That was quite impressive." Artemis complimented her as she changed out his pillows.  
"Oh yeah?" She grinned, proud in spite of herself. "Well, I had a few hours to think it up."  
"Very clever," he insisted. "Although- now we actually have to _crash_ the yacht." He laughed when she blanched, terrified. "It's all right. I've been trying to find an excuse to get rid of the thing, anyway. Speaking of which, why did you cover for me? What happened last night?" Victoria shrugged.  
"I dunno, but it probably had to do with that top-secret job you were working on, right? Butler came in last night at 2 in the morning with you in his arms, all bloody and stuff, and told me I had to help you. Seriously, are all your missions like this?" Artemis raised an eyebrow.  
"So you're not at all curious as to how I got this way?" He didn't know why he was pressing the issue, but he felt that her reply was imperative. Artemis watched her as she picked a thick book off of one of the shelves and settled down in a plush armchair on the other side of the room.  
"Would you tell me if I asked?" she rebuffed, turning to the first page. Artemis smiled thinly and shook his head. "Luckily for you, Master Fowl, I'm not a very curious person when the situation doesn't pertain to me or someone I care about."Artemis's smile degraded to a frown, and the question escaped his lips before he could consider its implications.  
"And I'm not someone you care about?" Victoria jumped slightly. Did he seriously just ask that? She chose her words carefully.  
"N-no... I mean, I care for you as much as- an employee _should_ care for her employer- but even though I'm just as nosy as the next writer, you've made it clear that you're involved in stuff I'm not supposed to know about, like the MIB." Artemis pursed his lips in annoyance, his glare boring a hole into the book she hid behind. Her lack of interest in his affairs had him seriously peeved. He changed his mind; this girl annoyed him far to much to be the cause of whatever his heart did when she was around. He sunk back down in the bed, planning to take his mother's advice and get some rest so he could get well as soon as possible.  
"Just- don't do it again," he heard her mumble from behind her hardcover.  
"What?" Victoria sunk lower into her chair as her face grew redder.  
"Don't get hurt again, OK? It gives me more work to do." Artemis grinned as her knuckles grew white where she gripped the book.  
"Yes, yes," he said dismissively, closing his eyes.

* * *

When she knew he was asleep, Victoria moved back to the chair by the bed. As she lifted the comforter to cover all of Artemis's sleeping form, visions of the night before came unbidden to her mind.

_"Hand me the surgical scissors," Butler had said through his mint-green face mask. She turned to the table of organized surgical tools, glad to be looking somewhere other than the long, scorched gash across Artemis's ribcage. She had never seen an open wound like this before, so assisting the manservant through the whole cleaning and sewing process had been a new and terrifying experience._  
_"Usually I didn't handle them until they were much more- dead than this," she said half-jokingly, alluding to her days in the anthropology lab. Butler gave her a short look to say that her statement wasn't funny, then his face softened when he saw the tears streaming down her face._  
_"Don't cry," he said, cutting the thread he had used to sew the wound shut. "I understand how you must be feeling, but it's not going to do him any good." Victoria nodded, sniffing and wiping her face on her sleeve._  
_"I know," she said, an passive edge in her voice. Butler sighed, cutting a strip of gauze to tape over his handiwork._  
_"Understand, I don't mean you should distance yourself from him or withhold your emotions." Victoria jumped, partly because he had just admitted to knowing about how she felt about Artemis, and partly because he was actually being sentimental. "You're good for him." He lifted Artemis, who had been given anesthetics for the impromptu operation, into a sitting position. "Now, hold him up while I wrap him." Victoria stood in front of Artemis and put her arm around his chest and under his armpit so most of his weight rested on her shoulder._  
_"How am I- good for him." She wondered softly, her heart speeding up as Artemis's breath skidded across her shoulder. "He's so mysterious and moody, and nothing I do is good enough. Still- -I want to believe I can help him. But that's impossible, isn't it. "_  
_"If there's one thing I've learned from Artemis," Butler smiled wanly as he taped off the bandage, "it's that nothing is impossible."_

Coming back from her flashback, Victoria realized she was crying again.  
"I'm sorry, Artemis," she whispered, letting the tears fall. "There are so many strong people around you, but I'm not one of them. I'm scared to know what you think of me, and when I saw you on that table, I was so terrified I nearly collapsed. I'm not like Butler or Juliet, or even the person in your room upstairs, who at least have the ability to protect you. But I wonder-" she reached out to touch his face, which twitched slightly as if he were dreaming. "-don't you need someone to cry for you, too?"

* * *

It was nearly midnight, and Artemis tried to concentrate on his book. Victoria was not around to distract him, but Holly was supposed to visit him tonight, and he desperately needed to talk to her.  
"Well, it's about time you got here."  
"D'Arvit!" Holly shut off her shield with a pout. "How do you do that? The door is open and it's dark, you freak human!" But she said this with an amused and relieved smile. "It's good to see you, Artemis. I mean, when we're both not bleeding."  
"The feeling is mutual," Artemis smiled.  
"So," Holly clapped her hands once. "Shall I begin?"

As Holly finished the healing process on his wound, Artemis recounted the strange heart problems he'd been having. He recalled where, when, and how often the anomaly occurred, believing that if anyone could heal him, Holly could. But, upon telling her of his condition, Holly nearly fell off of the bed with laughter.  
"Holly, careful! You're in the middle of healing my infirmity!" the invalid complained. The captain calmed herself, but the smirk never left her face.  
"It's your fault for telling me such an absurd story in the middle of a healing session," she chuckled. "Heart condition? Please."  
"Then what is it?" Artemis asked impatiently.  
"Really, Arty?" Holly stared at him pointedly with her two-toned eyes. "You have no idea? Let me get this straight: your heart speeds up when _she_ is around, and nearly stops when you think _she's_ been hurt." Artemis opened his mouth to protest, but she continued before he could. "You blush when _she_ compliments you, get angry when _she_ ignores you, and to top it all off, you get _jealous_ when _she_ has a guy friend over... do you sense a pattern here? You'd better, because I feel like an English instructor teaching on pronouns."  
Artemis just stared at her blankly, the pieces prevented from coming together by his firm belief that- that kind of thing- could never happen. Holly, now finished with her healing, rubbed her brow testily.  
"Well, I guess your out-of-character **cluelessness** makes sense because you see everything as a science experiment. Butler?" The bodyguard, who had been standing guard by the door, sighed.  
"Artemis, you love her." Artemis blinked as the weight of the words crushed the barrier in his brain, and the pieces snapped together like a chain of hydrocarbons.  
"I honestly never thought I'd see the day," Holly confessed as she re-bandaged Artemis's now-recovered wound. "Though you couldn't have picked a worse time, being in the middle of a cross-species crisis and all. It's humbling to know that even the most composed intellectual can be undermined by the power of a well-placed love interest."

Holly departed for her (Artemis's) room soon after that, leaving Artemis to ponder his new predicament.  
"How long have you known?" Artemis asked Butler. The manservant looked up from straightening the tea things.  
"About your feelings for Miss Bering? About a week and a half now." Artemis nodded, and chuckled to himself.  
"I never noticed at all." Butler raised an eyebrow.  
"You're accepting it so easily?"  
"Well, of course I'll have to explore it more for myself-" Artemis looked out the window to the full moon. His skin glowed in its blue light, making him look more sickly, yet also ethereal "- but it would make sense that I fell in love without knowing it. I thought I'd suppressed any hormones that might have affected me years ago, and I've never been interested in the formal outings and expensive gifts that a cliche relationship entails. Victoria doesn't make me feel like those things are required. Perhaps that's why I never noticed- that I-" Artemis's pulled a hand back through his hair and chuckled softly. "Though the emotional roller coaster should have been a dead giveaway. Ugh-" he fell back on the pillows. "What would you do in my situation, Butler?"  
"What would I do?" Butler made a show of considering it, but Artemis knew he had already chosen his answer. "I would chase after her."

* * *

When Artemis woke up the next morning, Victoria was asleep in her chair next to the bed again. Still groggy, Artemis wondered how long she had been there. Then he noticed the breakfast tray on the bedside table next to the clock that read 10:00 AM. With a small smile, he extended his hand to brush the hair from her face, but caught himself before he could. He stared at the hand, which had acted on its own once before, when the electricity in the manor had gone out. Had he felt this way even then?  
He frowned. Holly was right. Haven was in danger of an epidemic, and he needed to be focused on preventing it, not on young love. On the other hand, there was Butler's advice. Artemis shook his head. And all this was assuming that his feelings for Miss Bering weren't just a distorted case of Stockholm's Syndrome! Still, he ended up brushing the hair away in spite of himself, then moved to the other side of the bed to still his racing heart.

Over the next couple of days, Artemis often woke up to find Victoria asleep somewhere in the room. The first few times it was the hardback chair, then the armchair, then the floor by the bed. When Artemis joked once about her snoring, Juliet found her in the closet.  
"You're a horrible nurse, to fall asleep on duty so frequently." Artemis commented once when Victoria was changing out his bandages.  
"Oh, excuse me," she guffawed, trying not to blush as she almost embraced him trying to unwind his bindings, "but _whose_ fault is it that I have to paint at night now? I have to take care of you _all day_, and believe me, they should make it a corporate punishment." She made a great show of sighing heavily. "It's just not fair! It's not like _I_ crashed a yacht or anything."  
She had had to repeat the yachting story multiple times over the last several days, and now, since Butler had beached the yacht to confirm the tale, Artemis wondered if she actually believed it herself.  
"Well, to make it up to you," he said, again his brain not keeping up with his mouth, "the next time you feel the need for a nap, this bed is big enough for two." Artemis blushed nearly as red as Victoria at his invitation. He had been making more and more compulsory statements recently, and Victoria usually took them in stride. However, this comment was bold, even by his standards. It's only gotten worse since my conversation with Holly, Artemis thought. I must control myself!  
"I-I don't think-" Victoria stuttered, trying to figure out if he was serious, then gasped. "Artemis! Your side!" She tilted her head and blinked to make sure she was seeing correctly. "It's nearly completely healed!" She got on her knees beside the bed and leaned in for a better look, the anthropologist in her taking over.  
"The- magic of modern science," Artemis said uneasily, blushing as she studied him.  
"Yeah, but even modern science can't do this good of a job," Victoria mused. "I mean, there's barely even a mark!" Without thinking, she reached out and touched the thin pink line where the gash used to be. Artemis hissed in surprise and she withdrew, embarrassed.  
"Ohmygosh, I'm sorry. Are you still tender there?"  
"Yes," Artemis replied, burrowing back under the covers. "And if you must know, I took an experimental medication to help aid in the healing process. Obviously, it has worked wonders. The developers will be very pleased." In all actuality, the magic-tempered pills Victoria unknowingly gave him the first day helped with the burns, but Holly's pure magic did most of the heavy-lifting.  
"Totally," Victoria whispered, in awe. She supposed she should scold him for trying out a risky drug, but seeing as it worked, there was no harm done. Besides, she wasn't sure she completely believed his story. "I'm going to go work on the mural some more. Call if you need anything." Artemis nodded, turning away to make a show of sleeping, when in fact he was wide awake, his heart beating a mile a minute. This was the second time she had looked at him with such open fascination, and now that he had semi-acknowledged his feelings, his reaction was even stronger. His skin still buzzed from where she had touched him, and he rubbed the spot, trying to make the sensation go away. The more he was around Victoria, the more he realized the truth of Holly and Butler's hypothesis.  
Artemis flung his arm over the edge of the bed in frustration, then he pulled back in pained surprise when he hit something hard. After shaking his hand to dispel the stinging from his first accident, he tentatively reached over the edge again and found the offending object. It was thin and long, and seemed to be wedged underneath the mattress. With a little effort, he pulled it free, and was a tad disappointed in his find. It was a simple, black, moleskin book. Though bereft, Artemis still opened it with declining curiosity- declining, that is, until he read the first two words.  
"It's a journal."

* * *

Victoria came in two hours later with Artemis's lunch. Instead of laying on the bed, her rapid-recovery patient sat in the armchair reading Alexander Puskin's _Eugene Onegi_n. He had taken the liberty of covering his nakedness with a hoodie.  
"Bold fashion statement," she commented as she set the silver tray she carried on a nearby coffee table. "And bold move, considering that is _my_ hoodie."  
"It's actually a lot more comfortable than I thought it would be," Artemis said, ignoring her second comment completely. He picked up his teacup daintily and took a sip, his eyes still on his book. Then his eyebrows rose incredulously, and he looked down into the teacup. "Interesting. What blend is this?" Victoria rolled her eyes.  
"Butler's out, so I had to brew the Earl Grey myself." She pressed her fingers to her temple and squeezed her eyes shut in a great show of distress. "I was at such a loss- what _did_ I do before having staff to dote on my every whim?" She opened her eyes curiously when Artemis didn't snap back at her. Instead, the genius stared into his too-dark tea, a slight blush on his face.  
"Uhhh, Artemis?" she asked, bending over to look at his face more carefully. "Are you OK? Do you need to get back in bed?" Artemis started when she spoke, then dismissed his jittery behavior with a wave of a long hand.  
"No, don't be ridiculous," he coughed, and took another drink of tea, which for some reason caused him to blush harder. Assuming the tea tasted bad, Victoria reached forward to take the cup back.  
"Look, you don't need to drink it if it's gross-" but Artemis held up a hand to keep her at bay.  
"It's fine," he insisted. "Now, do you have anything else for me?"  
"Oh yeah," she reached into her sweater's hand warmer and pulled out a stack of mail. She gave them to her companion, then retreated to the bed to wait until he finished his meal. After tossing the first few letters aside, Artemis finally found something of interest.  
"Huh. Well, it's about time," he muttered, opening a small, gold-leafed envelope with the name "Minerva Paradizo" in the sender's corner. He read over the envelope's contents with a neutral expression, then looked up so suddenly it caused Victoria to jump. "Victoria, what are you doing for New Years?" She cocked an eyebrow.  
"Hopefully? Hiding from your mother's house guests."  
"Perfect," he said, tucking another paper into his pocket and putting the invitation back in the envelope. "Then you can be my escort to this New Year's party." He tossed her the invitation, but his throw fell short and she had to scramble to the end of the bed to catch it.  
"'You are cordially invited to the home of Miss Minerva Paradizo for an elegant night among the highest of European society,'" she read aloud. "Entertainment includes a four-course dinner and dancing, music provided by Paris's finest jazz ensemble. The night will conclude with a fireworks display, designed by the famous- Artemis, I want to spend New Years _away_ from rich people! Besides, I was hoping to do something with my friends..."  
"Then they can come along," Artemis compromised easily. "It should be an educational experience for you all."  
"Let me clarify," Victoria said, irritated. "When I said 'rich people' that _included_ you."Artemis froze, the look on his face bordering on distressed. Her heart squeezed in her chest, and she sighed.  
"Fine," she recanted.  
"Excellent," her warden replied, his shock quickly replaced by a nefarious grin. "I'll pick you up around eight."

* * *

"Are you sure you guys can't make it?" Victoria asked, hoping her desperation wasn't too obvious.  
"Sorry, Vikki, Mum's got us all tied up with a family gig," Jenna lamented.  
"But you could always come over to out place," Joseph cut in, "You could tell that creep you had other plans. That'll get you off the hook, right?" She shrugged, though they obviously couldn't see her from over the phone. She _did_ only agree to attend the party under the condition that her friends could go, too... sort of.  
"I'm not sure," she said. "Even if you guys aren't coming, he's gone through the trouble to plan this- why _is_ he doing all this, by the way?" She backed up from the mural wall to assess her progress as she mused over Artemis's motives. "I mean, taking an acquaintance to an event as an escort is one thing, but taking your employee to a party on a bribe?"  
"Maybe nobody else would go with him?" Jenna hypothesized aloud. "Does Juliet have a date that night?"  
"He wants your soul?" Joseph said, his somber tone suggesting that he was half-serious.  
"He wants to buy you a fancy dress and take it out of your salary?"  
"No-" Victoria said, moving in to make some adjustments to the painting "-Juliet is taking care of the twins on New Years, and Angeline is buying the dress- she even had my measurements taken instead of just asking for my dress size." She tapped her chin with the end of her paintbrush. "Come to think of it, Artemis is being really particular about the dress, too. I overheard him telling Juliet to send him photographs of the perspectives so he could approve them." The three friends had a short laugh at the genius's expense. The artist's laughter petered out first.  
"I'm grateful for all they are doing, really, I am- I just wish I knew _why_." There was radio silence for over a minute.  
"We can speculate all we want, but I don't think we'll ever know exactly what's going on in that criminal mastermind's brain," Joseph said, finally. "Just, do me a favor and take your mace."

* * *

Artemis was going over Abbott's paperwork and Holly was playing with the new apps on his cell phone when he received the photos from Juliet.  
"Hey, Mud Boy, since when are you interested in the fashion scene?" Holly scoffed upon opening the file. "This dress is pretty cute, but I hate to break it to you, Arty; I don't think it's your style."  
"Let me see that," Artemis responded testily. He thumbed through the pictures, nodding to himself. "A good color-" he mumbled.  
"Good color for what?" Holly asked, her curiosity thoroughly peaked. The blush that materialized on the genius's face answered her question. "So you not only realized your feelings, but asked her out on a _date_, too?" She grinned malevolently. "I never pinned you for the kind to move so quickly."  
"Well, I am sort of on a tight schedule, aren't I?" Artemis shot back. He glanced solemnly over at his desk calendar. "She's about three fourths of the way through her mural project, and at the latest she'll be leaving by the end of January to go back to school." He steepled his fingers. "She's not stupid, but she's not the most active nucleus in the compound when it comes to men. I've seen as much through the way she deals with those twin friends of hers. So, I've got approximately two weeks to get through her walls of obtusity and make her mine." Holly rolled her eyes, wishing she was close enough to kick him.  
"'Make her yours'? That's pretty feudal of you, Arty." She frowned. "And bold, now that I think of it." Holly leaned forward. "You wouldn't go into such a potentially humiliating situation like this without thorough knowledge of what you're getting yourself into. So-" the captain slit her eyes like a pro copper "-where exactly is all of this confidence coming from?" Artemis lounged in his luxury desk chair, unperturbed.  
"I have confidence, Holly," he began, "because I have it in good confidence." The captain stared him down for a moment, then fell back in her seat with a growl.  
"OK, I give up. What's that supposed to mean?" Artemis chuckled.  
"Let's just say I got it straight from the horse's mouth." "Don't tell me you've had _Foaly_ doing your dirty work for you." Artemis snorted at the irony.  
"He does have a certain aptitude for spying, doesn't he?" he observed. "But I'm going to take the easy way out of this question, and say we should get back to the case." Artemis sifted through the papers on his desk, stacking certain pages and handing them to Holly to look over.  
"I've finished analyzing these pages of Abbott's data," he said. "From what wasn't encrypted, I gathered that he is using cancer in his virus; cancer from human blood cells, to be exact. Those records state that he's used various hospital orderlies across Europe to collect the cells needed for his research and, according to this memo, they've almost run out of samples." Holly looked up from the papers to her friend, who was watching her for her reaction.  
"Well?" she prompted. "What would you have us do?"  
"Tell Commander Kelp to search every 'abandoned' shuttle shoot for recently used materials," Artemis replied, delighted that she had asked the right question, "And check security footage for any tourists bringing pet guinea pigs with them to the surface. Focus on the tourist. As long as Abbott's accomplice is at large, he still has an advantage."  
"I'll get right on it," Holly replied, handing the papers back to Artemis. "Now, you said part of the info was encrypted?" Artemis nodded.  
"It might take me a few days to crack, but I'll have it decoded and your desk by Monday."  
"We should send a copy of the files to Qwan, too," she suggested. "Abbott was a demon, so maybe Qwan will notice something we wouldn't."  
"Excellent idea. I'll scan the pages and forward them to your helmet." Holly grimaced.  
"It still feels weirdly invasive that you can do that." The heir started the scanning process, then turned back to his friend, a concern evident on his face. "What is it?" Holly frowned, hating the look of pity in his eyes.  
"Well," he hesitated, "I was wondering- how our friends in quarantine are doing." Holly looked down at her hands.  
"OK. The disease hasn't spread, but the warlocks are only giving them another couple weeks before the damage already done... kills them." Artemis nodded and, unsure how to continue the sad conversation, turned slowly back to his computer.  
"Artemis?" Holly asked. He hmmm?ed, so she knew he was listening. "Do you really think this is the best time to be thinking about- parties and girls? I mean, with so many lives at stake-"  
"I assure you, this mission is my first priority," Artemis replied, smiling sincerely. "But we, of all people, know that we only live once.

* * *

**That seems like a good note to leave on. :D Merry Christmas to all!**


	13. First World Problems

**Aw man, It's actually been half a year? I am so sorry. Have some updates, sweeties!**

* * *

Victoria looked at her phone in near-desperation as she caught Charlie's voicemail for the fourth time that day. She had been fine the day before, when the party seemed like a bad joke or a weird fantasy. But now, with her new outfit on her bed and the party only hours away, she really needed an unbiased third party to talk to. Running a hand through her wild red hair, she tossed the phone on the couch, then fell on into the thick cushions herself.

What was I thinking, agreeing to something like this? she thought. Not only am I uncertain about the motives of my- my date, but I've never even liked parties! What, did I think good company would fix my lifelong phobia of peer gatherings?

"I thought I sensed female distress." Victoria's head rolled dejectedly toward the voice, her neck limp like a man fresh off the gallows.

"Juliet?" she said tiredly. "Huh. I rarely see you around these parts."

"Yeah, well," the young bodyguard pounced into the armchair perpendicular to the couch. "You looked pretty stressed earlier. So what's up?" Victoria wondered vaguely what "earlier" she was referring to; she hadn't seen Juliet all day. She shrugged.

"You know what's up. It's this party tonight. I'm second-guessing whether I should go."

Juliet frowned. "You promised Artemis didn't you?"

"Well- sort of. I'm not sure what happened really. The whole minute that we talked about it, I was kind of dazed." Her face scrunched up in confusion. "What was he thinking, inviting me? I'm a starving artist from Hickstown, America. My mom taught me manners, but I don't know high-class etiquette, I'm not very graceful... maybe I've been watching too much television, but isn't an escort supposed to be classy and great eye candy?" Victoria looked over at Juliet for conformation, who just shrugged. She dug the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. "Well, whatever. I don't want to embarrass him, is all... he barely puts up with me as it is. And... and I thought..." she laughed at herself softly, and her arms fell to her sides again, "I thought it would be nice if I could make him smile... you know, when he's not laughing at something stupid I did."

Juliet fought an amused smile. "Has anyone ever told you that you read too much into things?"

Victoria's half-lidded eyes stared into the ceiling. "All the time."

The female bodyguard chuckled. "I think Artemis asked you ibecause/i you aren't upper class. And I mean that in a nice way." The blonde, who was sitting on her haunches, leaned forward precariously in her seat, her tone conspiratorial. "To be honest, Artemis doesn't really fit in with a lot of people, or have a lot of friends. But he considers you a friend, Victoria Bering." Victoria blinked at the use of her full name, then smiled when the word "friend" registered.

"You- you think?"

Juliet nodded. "You're one of the few people outside this family who can make him laugh- even though it might be because you did something stupid. So go and have fun," she ordered as she jumped up from her seat. "And make sure that tight-laced, swollen headed genius has some fun, too, OK? It's your duty as his escort." Victoria stood as the young butler exited, and saluted her.

"Ay, ay, captain!"

* * *

Once outside the room, Holly powered down her suit's new exterior projectors and contacted Foaly on her wrist communicator.

"Just wanted to let you know I tested the new camouflage gadget," she told him.

"You mean the one you said you wouldn't test pilot for me?" Foaly asked, and she could imagine his pout as he continued, "and don't call it a 'gadget'. That makes it sound so... human."

"It worked really well, actually," Holly reported, ignoring his last statement. "Of course, I still can't touch anyone while the hologram is activated, and had to maneuver so my synthesized exo-skeleton didn't walk through walls or fall through furniture, but it's great for questioning unsuspecting humans."

"Oh, really?" Foaly grinned diabolically. "So who did you test it on? Not our Arty."

"No," Holly grinned back. "Arty's soon-to-be-girlfriend."

"Oh!" The captain heard the rolling of wheels as Foaly moved closer to the microphone. "What was she like?"

Holly thought about it for a moment. "Just a normal college student, as far as I can tell. I don't really have a lot to go on, but she really cares for Artemis."

"Well," Foaly huffed, "Who'd of thought, huh? Artemis will be going steady with someone before you will."

Holly rolled her eyes. "I'm married to my work," she informed him.

Foaly guffawed. "If that's the case, your work has threatened to divorce you multiple times."

Holly stuck out her tongue at him, but smiled in spite of herself. "The genius still has time to mess it up," she pointed out. She looked back at the room of the door she just vacated with a knowing smile, "though I find myself hoping he doesn't."

* * *

Four hours later, Victoria nearly fell out of her chair when a knock came at her door.

"Victoria?" Artemis called, "Butler is here with the limo, and we are already past fashionably late."

It's time. Victoria thought nervously, picking up the various sketched-on pages that had fallen when she jumped. No turning back now. Well, I guess I could jump out the window. It's only the second story-

"Oh, and who's fault is that, Mr. Just-a-Few-More-Pages?" she said aloud, grabbing her purse and running to the door before he thought her too slow and came in. So I've got my cellphone, my wallet, a notepad in case I get bored... brought my keys. I guess I don't need them really... I wonder if I messed up my hair while I was cleaning up- her frantic thoughts disappeared when she opened the door and saw her date for the evening.

He looked dashing. He wore a midnight blue button-down shirt under a white vest and tie. His coat was pitch black, as were his trousers, emphasizing his pale skin and black hair. His lapel was a shiny black satin, and a blue rose was pinned to it. She blushed fiercely at the thought that ishe/i was attending a party with this dark, princely character. It took her a moment to notice he was staring at her, too.

"Artemis?" she choked, trying to speak around the lump in her throat. "Does it look weird? I didn't go shopping with them, but I thought-"

"No, no!" Artemis reassured her, realizing that his silence had been mistaken. "I'm just admiring the- workmanship. A halter top is perfect for you, and the length is appropriate. The taffita overlay is a bit low-key for this event, but-" he smiled widely at her. "You look lovely. Here," like magic, he produced another blue rose. "For you."

Victoria grinned gleefully. "It's amazing! I love blue roses, even though it's just a white rose artificially colored-my middle name is Rose, you know, after my mother, and... I'm rambling, aren't I?" her tone decrescendoed to a meek mumble.

Artemis grinned. "I'm glad you stopped yourself, because we really don't have the time now. Here-" he moved to help her attach the rose to her dress, but instead she took it from him and wove it into the messy bun on the side of her head. "This was just what my hair needed! It looks a lot more fancy now, I was kind of worried."

The young man chuckled. "Why do you always have to be so charmingly abnormal?"

"What?" She looked up from her compact mirror, which she had been using to situate the flower.

"Oh, nothing." He held out his arm. "Shall we?"

* * *

To be honest, the part of the evening that freaked out Victoria the most was the ride to the party. She had never been talented at small talk, and distractions are hard to come by in such small spaces. Unfortunately Artemis seemed out of touch as well, and was proving hard to pull into a meaningful conversation. Finally Victoria gave up, staring out the windows at the nighttime scenery. Fields of snow flew by, untouched and glowing an effervescent blue in the moonlight, the color scheme changed only by a few farmhouses decked out in Christmas lights.

"Do you ever get tired of it?" Victoria asked, entranced.

"Excuse me?"

"Of the view. Of nature. Of Ireland," she clarified, still looking out of the window. "It's so alluring. America is beautiful, of course, with its mountains and deserts and plains, but Ireland has a sort of- magic about it that makes it irresistible- to me, anyway." She glanced over at him and, finding him watching her thoughtfully, dropped her gaze to her lap. "Sorry, I'm talking nonsense."

"No," Artemis insisted, and she peered back up at him. "Ireland has a similar effect on many people. Even I cannot wait to return after traveling, no matter how exotic the location." Victoria smiled and returned to gazing out the window. The junior Fowl, who had been ignoring her before when he ran the risk of being ousted, took the opportunity to study her now. This party was not like any other event; it was a New Year's Party, a time for new beginnings. Artemis planned to make a new beginning tonight; to take the next step toward his newfound love and his maturation as a human being. It terrified him. Ironically, Victoria appeared to be more distraught than he, and she had no idea what he was planning.

It will be difficult to accomplish my goals tonight if she is trapped inside her shell, though, Artemis speculated. On one of his rare impulses, which he was learning to control and trust, Artemis broke the silence.

"Your thoughts on Ireland are quite poetic. Why don't you talk some more?"

She broke her mask of anxiety to raise an incredulous eyebrow at him, and Artemis smiled, happy to see the Victoria he knew.

"Oh-kay," she said hesitantly. "What would you like to hear?"

For the next half hour, Victoria entertained Artemis with thoughts on literature and nature, as well as some anecdotes about America and her family. Artemis was an attentive listener, occasionally asking questions but always interested in what she had to say. It heartened her that she could keep him happy like she thought an escort should, but also secretly wondered who truly escorted whom.

"We have arrived at the Paradizo residence, Artemis," Butler finally announced through the limo's speaker system.

Victoria ducked so she could see the whole front of the house through the window.

"Oh wow..."

The white villa was almost fragile looking, as if made from sugar glass, the balustrades and crestings carved so fine that they looked like lace. Light streamed through the large, arched windows, and strings of Christmas lights hung from the turrets and the balconies. The whole estate gave off a winter wonderland ambiance, and the blanket of snow on the lawn was icing on the high-class-but-low-calorie cake.

Butler opened the limo door for the couple and gave the keys to a valet. While she stood staring at the house in awe, Artemis took Victoria's arm and tucked it around his. This jolted her from her revere.

"You're not going to be like this inside, are you?" Victoria's nose scrunched at the mild barb.

"I'm getting it out of my system," she replied. She sighed and shuddered, shaking her arms and legs as if trying to get rid of hangers-on. Finally, she nodded at her escortee, who watched her with an amused smile. "OK, I'm good."

* * *

Despite her statement, upon entering the Paradizo residence Victoria could barely keep her excitement contained. The large, open foyer was a veritable art gallery, and the artist was instantly awed.

"They have several fine Baroques," she murmured, "and oh my gosh! they have a Monet-" she stopped her chattering when she realized Artemis wasn't responding, or even giving the little "mm-hmhs" he did when he didn't want to spare the words to tell her to shut up.

"You're tense, Mr. Fowl," she noted under her breath. "Is something wrong?"

"It's the social atmosphere," he replied in an off-handed tone that told her he was lying. "The perfume in the air is almost as palpable as these silly masquerades they design to boost their egos. Listen," he pulled her closer so he could whisper near her ear. She stiffed under his hand and hoped he couldn't see the goosebumps on her arms. "During the party, I may have to go attend to some other matters, but stay within eyesight and watch what you say, understand?"

Victoria's eyes narrowed at the other party-goers. "What, is one of them a spy or something?"

Artemis chuckled in spite of himself, and a few young people who were acquainted with the Fowl heir and his usual temperament stared at him as if he were possessed.

"Possibly, but that's not why I want you to use discretion."

"So wha-" Suddenly, a tall, blonde woman appeared on Artemis's arm, clinging to him as if he was a stuffed animal in a claw machine and she the claw. Victoria, who didn't do well around beautiful people, wriggled from Artemis's hold and stepped behind him.

"Ah, Artemis! _Bonjour mon ami!_" She greeted, air-kissing his cheeks in the French fashion. "So glad you could make it. Your RSVP was so last-minute, I was worried!"

"Yes, well I've been busy with several projects recently." Artemis said coolly, his stance now relaxed, his eyes keen.

"Oh really?" One of Minerva's perfectly plucked eyebrows arched. "You will have to regale me with the dirty details. I could be of some assistance."

Artemis smiled courteously. "Perhaps, but at the moment your services are, regrettably, not needed." The hostess smiled in return, then shifted her attention to the redhead hovering behind Artemis trying to look uninterested.

"Who's this?"

"Minerva, this is Victoria Bering." He caught his escort's hand before she could think of escaping and pulled her beside him. He continued, in a more guarded tone, "Victoria, this is Minerva Paradizo, our _gracious_ hostess."

The French woman waved a manicured hand at the Irish heir. "Oh, Artemis, you've become such a smooth talker."

Victoria utilized their exchange to take a closer look at the French heiress. Miss Paradizo wore a ruby red, skin-tight evening dress with gold embroidery and long, flowing sleeves. Her hair, which reached the small of her back, was undecorated and fell in golden ringlets. Her finger- and toenails were painted to match her dress, and her heels were at least 3 inches high, making her an inch taller than Artemis. She had flawless skin and curves in all the right places. Her smirk said she knew her assets and planned to use them. Ruthlessly.

"You're like Artemis, aren't you?" Victoria asked before she could stop herself. Minerva blinked at her, put off by the vague question.

"What? I mean, _pardone_?"

"A-a genius, I mean," Victoria continued meekly. "I can tell by your smile, and the way your eyes seem to- observe everything, like you're cataloguing their uses." Minerva, peeved for being profiled, angled herself to more directly address Artemis's partner.

"An interesting deduction," she sneered. "But if I am cataloguing everything, what use could you possibly be?" Victoria pursed her lips, not able to come up with a snappy comeback, or sure that she should, since her opponent _was_ their host.

"Well, she is about to be of use to me on the dance floor." Artemis answered instead, taking Victoria's arm once again. "Excuse us."

"Wait, Artemis!" Minerva protested, but the genius and his escort were already swallowed up by the crowd of guests.

* * *

"Artemis, was it really OK to just walk away like that?" Victoria asked, though she was secretly relieved. "She sounded kind of desperate."

"Don't fret about it," he replied sharply, still shedding the last vestiges of annoyance. "She should be greeting her guests, anyway. If she picked favorites now, it would only draw suspicion."

Victoria smirked. _Of course_ he had an ulterior motive. Her amusement turned to uneasiness, then fear as she realized where they were headed.

"Victoria, what's wrong?" He held her arm tighter when she tried to discreetly flee in the opposite direction.

"We're not- actually going to dance, are we?" Artemis raised an eyebrow.

"Of course. You didn't serious think I'd lie to our hostess, did you?" His escort dragged her feet even more, until he finally gave in and pulled her to the side of the hallway, out of the flow of party goers.

"I- I hoped you were lying," she admitted, "because- well, I just- I can't-"

"Dance?" He grinned, remembering watching her dance on her first day in the manor. "Don't worry, I can help you-" he was choked off when she grasped his shoulder and his breathing hitched at the uncharacteristic physical contact.

"No, you don't understand," she said desperately. "I can't even do a box step. I'm not being modest when I say I _suck_ at dancing." Victoria's heart sank as she looked in his eyes and saw no sympathy, only determination.

"I'll be the judge of that."

* * *

"Artemis Fowl, I am going to kill you." Victoria growled as they stood in the middle of the dance floor.

"Oh come now, don't be so tense," Artemis said, unperturbed by her hostility. "Look around you; is anyone here doing the waltz?" Victoria took a quick look about the ballroom and was surprised to find that, besides the flamboyant couple in the corner doing the tango, everyone else on the dance floor simply swayed back and forth to the soft jazz music.

"Though the elites attending these parties have most likely been trained in traditional dance," Artemis intoned, as if narrating for the Discovery Channel, "it is considered uncouth to flaunt it. Downright snobbish, actually."

"And of course we know that Artemis Fowl is _never_ a snob," she retorted, and he rewarded her with a grin.

"Are all Americans so snippy when they are nervous, or is it just you?" Artemis asked. She didn't reply, but looked around the room again, paranoid about drawing any unwanted attention. In her hesitation, Artemis stepped closer and put an arm around her waist.

"Hey, what are you-"

"Dancing," he replied. "We'll look strange if we just stand motionless in the center of the dance floor." Victoria, silenced by the voice of reason, took his proffered hand and put her other hand tentatively on his shoulder. Following Artemis's lead, they rocked back and forth to the music, his feet gently nudging hers whenever they needed to shift out of another couple's way.

Though Victoria's heart pounded in her chest, the gentle movement lulled her into an almost lethargic state, and their bodies came closer and closer together.

When he holds me this way, she thought giddily, it's almost like we're a real couple. Does dancing with someone always feel like this? His slim hands, paler than her own, were cold. Her fingers tightened instinctively around the hand she held in an attempt to warm his bony digits. Artemis, who had been looking pointedly away, gazed down at her in slight puzzlement and, unsure of what to do, squeezed back.

The next set of songs were all ballads, which suited the two just fine. The young genius felt at peace like he had almost a week ago, when they had fallen asleep in front of the fireplace. Now he realized it was her presence that put him at ease.

Victoria wished they could stay like this forever. As they danced, it didn't matter what her feelings were or how he responded to them. She didn't have to worry about the mural or going back home in the spring. They were just them, out of class and circumstance. Artemis's chin hovered over her shoulder, and her head fell against his neck as if she were in a trance. She felt so- safe. She didn't even know how long they had been dancing- it was as if time had stopped, and it was all a dream-

"Relaxing, isn't it?" Artemis whispered. Victoria jolted upright, her blush visible through her make-up.

"I am _so sorry._" Her gaze flitted about, wondering if anyone saw them dancing so closely. "That was not something an escort should do." Artemis frowned as she released him and stepped back. His stomach dropped, and he cursed himself for ruining the moment. He grabbed her shoulders before she retreated any further.

"Do you think I only brought you here to escort me?" he asked. He tried to catch her gaze, but she avoided him.

"Of course," she chuckled nervously, trying to duck out of this awkward encounter as fast as possible. "You asked me to be your escort, didn't you? Are you thirsty?" She tried to shrug him off, but Artemis dropped his hands to hold her by the wrists.

"I might have used those words before," he said in a low, confiding voice, "but I-"

"Can I cut in?" Minerva materialized beside the couple. Artemis let go of his escort, his face somewhere between irritated and relieved. Victoria smiled at their hostess.

"Of course," she said, her outer mask hiding her inner confusion. "I'm getting tired, anyway." Artemis pursed his lips, though he made sure to control his emotions around Minerva.

"Just a minute-"

"Besides, you have important matters to discuss, don't you?" she added, almost angry that Artemis wouldn't let her escape. "I'll leave you to it, then." She risked a peek at Artemis, and he appeared disappointed. She started to leave, but before she left he caught her arm and pulled her close.

"I don't know how long this is going to take," he said, "but I have something I need to tell you. Meet me at the second floor balcony, three minutes to midnight." Then he returned to Minerva, leaving Victoria completely baffled.

Artemis watched Victoria make her way out of the myriad of dancing youths. "This had better be extremely critical for you to interrupt, or Frond help me-"

"_Ma bonté_, touchy." Minerva chortled, a bit shaken by his antagonism, but obviously pleased with herself. "Trust me, this information is worth the estrangement of one commoner." Artemis didn't even bother being offended; she had him hooked.

"What information?"

"It involves some of our- mutual friends."

* * *

Victoria set her phone for ten to midnight, put the phone back in her purse, and sighed.

"Ugh," Victoria groaned, her head hanging down in exhaustion as she leaned against the ritzy daiquiri bar. All at once, immense regret for her timidity and depression at her failure at being an escort hit her like a ton of non-refundable textbooks. She sighed heavily.

Why am I here again?

"Careful, this thing is on wheels." The new voice jerked the artist from her self-pity so sharply that she nearly rocked the table. She steadied herself and looked around for the voice's source. The bartender smiled at her knowingly.

"Sorry," she mumbled, and began to walk away to find a new place to sulk.

"No, no, it's all right, you don't have to leave." The barman tossed a champagne flute up in the air and caught it again. "Can I get you a drink? On the house." Victoria gave him a second look; he was young, barely older than she, with blond hair and sky blue eyes. He wore a white satin button down, purple pinstripe vest, and a black bow tie. In effect, he was just her type. She shrugged, pretending to look over the selections.

"I dunno, you got anything non-alcoholic back there?" The handsome barkeep grinned the most sincere grin she'd seen all night.

"One creme soda, coming up." He poured two creme sodas into champagne glasses and came around the bar to hand one to her. "Creme soda is the drink of choice for elites who can't hold their liquor. It looks just like champagne, and-" he took a swig from his glass "- it still helps the nervous stomach."

"Thanks, you read my mind," she smiled, taking a drink from her own flute, "but I'm far from elite; I'm only an escort."

"An escort?" He chuckled, but his eyebrows furrowed in mild confusion. "Then your employer must place a very high price on your services. Have you escorted this man before?"

"No..." she replied uneasily. "Why?" He looked over the ballroom full of privileged teenagers, his face sad, almost conflicted. Victoria followed his gaze, past the pastel ball gowns and 24-piece band, out the windows where snow fell silently. When her companion started to speak again, she jumped.

"I- used to be an elite. My father dealt in precious stones, particularly diamonds." He took a drink and continued, "even though his company went south, he still taught me everything he knows." He lowered his voice. "Those jewels around your neck- who bought them for you?"

"Umm- he did, I think. I mean, his mother picked them out, but he- bought them. Insisted on it. The whole thing was really weird-" Victoria didn't know why she was spilling all of this to a stranger; she blamed it on the too-absent Charlie. "Why?"

He tilted his head toward her ear conspiratorially. "My lady, those are genuine sapphires around your neck. Just one would sell for at least 1,000 pounds, and you're wearing nine." The escort felt like she had been hit in the chest with a battering ram.

"One thou- that would be nine-" Victoria's eyes widened. "And in dollars- almost 20-"

"I know." He smiled at her awe. "A very impressive gift. Who is your generous benefactor, anyway?"

"A-Artemis Fowl. The second." She tried to laugh off the levity of what she'd been told. "I can't see him in the crowd, so he must have gone off with the hostess," she giggled nervously as her cheeks heated at this realization. "They had some kind of serious business to talk about." The bartender blinked, surprised, then composed himself.

"Well then, milady. My shift is nearly up. Would allow _me_ to escort _you_ until your man sees fit to reclaim you?" Victoria squinted at him, not sure how she felt about being "claimed" (though she had the sneaking suspicion she already had been). Then again, she was all alone in a building full of people who were- or thought they were- more sophisticated than her, and wouldn't give her the time of day. Then she turned to the bartender, and he smiled at her. She smiled back.

"Fine," she said. "That actually sounds fun."


	14. New Years Revelations

"Minerva, this had better be important," Artemis warned, his hand hovering over Minerva's waist, but not touching her, as they danced. "My escort is not the kind of woman I like to leave alone for too long." She giggled condescendingly.

"Yes, it makes one wonder who is escorting whom," she agreed, picking at his jacket with her long nails. "Especially with those rocks around her neck. Someone outbid me for those in the DeBeers auction; was that you? I must admit, I was surprised to see them in her possession."

"Did you call me out to comment on my taste in jewelry, or do you have something interesting to discuss?"

The French heiress sobered. "Interesting, _oui_, and dangerous." She and Artemis danced out of the ballroom and retreated to an abandoned office. Minerva sat on the edge of the desk and, after motioning for Artemis to take the seat in front of her, began.

"A couple weeks ago, I received an e-mail from a university, asking for my assistance on a bioengineering project," she said. "I told them that wasn't my area of expertise- that they might ask you instead, I was busy. I wasn't, of course, but I get so many of these offers I have to tell them something. They replied, saying that you were already working on a similar project for a rival institution." Her story broke off when Artemis frowned. "I know now that this was a falsehood," she assured him, "but then I believed them and began the research. Unfortunately, I hit a rather sturdy wall in my research, but not before I had run multiple tests and constructed a few theories. When I couldn't break through my barrier, I wanted to see how far you'd gotten on your end."

"So you hacked my system." He gave her his coldest glare. She put her hands on her hips, unconvinced.

"You know very well I couldn't get into any of the files you care about, but I figured this wouldn't be one of them. As you know, I found nothing. Kaput. Not even in your Internet browser history. That's when I began to suspect something."

"That's when-?" He ran his hand through his hair and laughed in disbelief. "Minerva, are you losing your touch? You should have suspected from the very beginning!"

"I know, but you know how I get when competition is involved!" The blonde genius pouted.

"Yes, yes, you act first, think rationally later," he grumbled. "Well then, what was the research about?"

"They told me that the premise of the research project was the manipulation of the genetic makeup of fungus spores while still in the organism," she said. Artemis's frown deepened.

"And you don't know who 'they' are?" Minerva nodded.

"No, but I've got my best people on it-" Artemis waved her into silence and stood.

"Call them off," he ordered, heading for the door. "I know who it is already." She seethed, tense and ready for action.

"Then tell me who, and I'll ruin them!"

"_Pas une chance,_" Artemis opened the door and turned, pointing his finger at her like a teacher would an unruly student. "You are not to investigate any further, am I clear? You've served as a pawn in this game. Make one wrong move now, and your mystery employer will sacrifice you. This is for your own safety, Minerva."

"Well, my hero," she managed, breathless with frustration, but pleased at his concern. "As a damsel in distress, I'll do whatever you say."

"Good," Artemis replied, realizing this wasn't the time to mince words. "Where is your research now?" Minerva growled, her rage rekindled.

"Those _cochons_ stole it. After I told them I hit a dead end, they crashed my computer and downloaded and erased the data. They nearly wiped the harddrive clean, the weasels." Artemis nodded, heading out the door while twisting the ring on his left hand.

"I'll get Foaly onto restoring your files." He paused, then said in a softer tone, "Thank you for informing me, Minerva. I have to make a private call now. Is the door to the music room still unlocked?" Minerva smiled, glad for a normal question among all the strangeness.

"Always for you, Artemis."

* * *

Holly, who had returned to Haven earlier that day, was visiting Mallard in the hospital when she got the call.

"What is it, Artemis?" she asked testily, slipping out of the quarantine block. "Do you know how much they make me wash just to go in and talk to him for a few minutes? They might as well put me in a full hazmat suit."

"Now is not the time for your quips, Holly." Artemis reprimanded her. "Connect us to Foaly as well. He'll want to hear this." The captain hooked her medical mask under her chin and pulled off her hair net.

"Foaly's not in, he's off duty. Why? What's this about, Mud Boy?" Unlike his usual theatrical self, who liked the build-up of his important news, Artemis's response was to-the-point;

"I know how Abbott is going to distribute the disease."

* * *

"So, Matthew, if you don't mind me saying so, your debonair personality is wasted as a bartender." Victoria observed, bending over to examine a Rodin sculpture on display. Upon learning that she was an art student, the bartender, Matthew, took her to see the Paradizo's extensive art collection located off of the main lobby.

"Oh, I agree," he replied, "Don't misunderstand, though; I'm not only Minerva's bartender, but her librarian, cook, mechanic, escort, and even, at times, her friend." Victoria gave him a sideways look, and he smiled. "Loony, I know. But she's the only one to keep in touch with me after my father's business failed. The only one to offer me a job to get myself through uni." He smiled softly, looking up at a Mignard portrait of the virgin Mary. "I admire her for that. She's a tough nut, but a sweet nut nonetheless." The two laughed at his strange metaphor. Victoria looked over at him and bit her lower lip, unsure if she should speak her mind.

"So- are you and Miss Paradizo- Minerva, I guess- childhood friends?"

"Yes, though we don't go as far back as she and Artemis do." Victoria's eyes widened, not expecting that response.

"Artemis and Miss Paradizo?" Matthew nodded.

"I heard they were thick as thieves back in the day- or at least, as thick as two highly competitive veritable geniuses can be." Matthew leaned toward her secretively. "To be honest, Minerva's held a torch for him ever since she first heard his lecture on the flaws of general relativity when she was eleven." Victoria's heart pounded in her ears, as if her body knew she didn't want to be hearing this. But still she persisted, punishing herself.

"Are they still- close?" Her attempt at impartiality failed, and Matthew raised an eyebrow at her hesitance. He considered her question.

"As of late? Not particularly, though everyone knows Minerva and Master Fowl make the perfect match. If you believe the rumors, they are even promised to each other. She's been out of the country the past few months, but before that she went to his estate several times a week. They went to events like this together, too, when she could convince him to get out of his study." He saw the guest's eyes widen as he continued. "However, they weren't able to stay in contact during her travels because of her busy schedule, and ever since she returned to Ireland in the beginning of December, he's been avoiding her. Minerva's tried to get him to attend a party with her for weeks, but he said no every time." Victoria's heart clenched as she remembered the extra sheet of paper in the invitation envelope. Was she invited to this party and given such expensive jewelry to get revenge on Minerva for neglecting him?

"Artemis- didn't need an escort to come to this party, did he?" She asked, dejected. Her conversation partner regarded her empathetically.

"No. At least, it was not required." Victoria's breathed hitched, her stomach tightening as she tried to process this new information. Matthew put his arm around her comfortingly. "Anyway, don't think of the worst of this situation, alright?" he said. "You are getting paid a hefty sum, after all. Just be careful. Minerva is a complicated woman, and easily provoked into jealousy."

"Well, tell her she doesn't have a rival in me." Victoria said. She should have known better; should have seen this coming. Of course Artemis had someone in his life, why wouldn't he? "I just wish I hadn't been brought into this." He squeezed her shoulder, and she slumped against him. Her whole situation was too much. First living in a manor, then falling in love with her employer's son, who has some dangerous past time that gets him shot. Now she had to deal with parties full of prisses, a rabid almost-girlfriend, and an attractive bartender with a hidden agenda. In the meantime, she was stuck in the crossfire without even her mysteriously MIA best friend to proveide some clarity.

"I'm just a girl from Arkansas, I'm not used to this much drama," she muttered. Matthew rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

"Don't worry, Victoria. I'm certain-" Matthew was cut off by a techno version of the Star Wars cantine. Her heart skipped a beat; her phone alarm.

"Sorry, I have- somewhere to be." She faked a warm smile and shook his hand. "Thanks. For everything." She began to walk away, then came back with a bashful grin. "Umm- can you tell me where the second floor balcony is?"

* * *

By the time Artemis finished explaining everything to Holly, it was nearly midnight. Thankfully, according to Holly, the Abbott caper could wait until the morning.

"It's New Years below ground, too," she explained. "Most of the force has the night off. I can't even get Foaly onto retrieving Minerva's data until he gets over his food coma sometime tomorrow."

Artemis power walked through the creme-colored halls as fast as he could without looking undignified. He had planned to arrive at the rendezvous point first so he could mentally prepare himself, but he arrived to find Victoria already sitting outside on the balcony, her legs kicking back and forth over the frozen rose bushes below. He cleared his throat; he knew how much she hated him sneaking up on her, and it wouldn't serve his purposes for her to hate him tonight.

She turned and looked up at him. He couldn't interpret her expression in the half light. She spoke first.

"So, why did you want to meet me up here?"

"You read the invitation," he replied, sitting down on the balcony next to her. It was freezing. He didn't understand why she didn't seem cold. "The fireworks display will begin in a few minutes. This balcony is a proverbial front row seat."

"And that's the only reason we're here?" She asked incredulously.

Artemis inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Victoria raised an eyebrow at his blatant nervousness. "I do have something to discuss with you," he admitted, "but first let's go inside before we catch our deaths." They both re-entered the library, and Artemis shut the French doors behind them. Victoria stood a few feet away from him, fiddling idly with her 9,000 pound necklace.

"Please, sit down," her companion said, motioning to a large, olive green love seat. "Or, if you like, remain standing, I suppose your choice of upright or reclining postures will really have no effect on what I am about to tell- ask- you..." Artemis's anxiety was seriously affecting Victoria now, and she sat down in the middle of the loveseat to steady herself.

"Mr. Fowl, what are you talking about-?" she asked, her eyes downcast.

"Mr. Fowl? Since when has our relational circumstances degraded us to addressing each other by our surnames, Victoria?" He paused for a moment, as if expecting an answer, then waved it off. "Nevermind that, it's irrelevant."

She considered being offended, but was baffled by how bewildered the young genius looked. He wasn't pacing or sweating, yet he was uncharacteristically tense and loquacious. "I summoned you to this hall of knowledge to ask your opinion on a certain- dangerous venture I wish to embark upon."

Victoria blinked.

"D-dangerous venture?"

Artemis nodded, relaxing a bit now that he had found his niche. "Yes, I hear it is very cumbersome, but I am willing to risk it if you agree." He stood taller and straightened his jacket. "Our relationship has been more than a trifle tumultuous, and based on our individual upbringings the average onlooker would not consider our conjunction to be a likely one."

"I- suppose not," Victoria replied, growing more irritated at Artemis's flowery language.

"Yet our coalition has prevailed, and dare I say grown, as we have cohabited. Since our introduction, I have observed in my own development a new bond swelling within my four-chambered organ. At first, I concluded that I must have some kind of physical ailment. That is, until some trustworthy confidantes informed me that my malady is not physical, but a condition of emotion, no, of the deepest feeling one can ever experience, a feeling that I can no longer imagine being without. Therefore-"

The redhead stood up abruptly. She was usually a slow-tempered person, but after the strain this night had inflicted upon her, she did not have a nerve left to spare.

"What the heck are you saying?!" she interrupted. "If you say another word in that attorney rhetoric, for the love of all that is good, I will drop another ladder on you! Just spit it out!"

"I want you to go out with me!"

...

The two stared at each other for a moment, or rather, stared at the words that were almost tangible in the stale air of the library. Victoria broke the silence first, only to say something completely unwarranted.

"What?"

"Do you want me to say it again?" he asked, emboldened for some reason. "I'm asking you to-"

"I know what you said!"

Artemis frowned. "Then why did you-"

She took a step toward him, her small hands balled into fists. "Because you don't _mean_ it!"

Artemis's throat tightened at her declaration, and he must have looked openly distraught because Victoria sobered almost immediately.

"I mean, you _can't_ mean it," she began again, her voice softer, trying to make him understand. "It doesn't make any sense. Matthew told me- how Minerva went away for a long time and you guys didn't keep in touch. I know how it feels to like someone who lives far away, and even to be angry at them. It hurts, a lot, and can drive a person to do stupid things- like this. And you and I both know you two make a better couple, anyway."

Artemis started to say something, but she interrupted him.

"Unless- she rejected you already. Is that the 'important business' you were talking about?" Victoria conjectured, her face heating up again. "Was I just here as a back-up in case your ego got bruised?"

"What are you talking about?" Artemis asked, indignant.

"You lied." Victoria replied bluntly. "You didn't need an escort to come to this party." Her face turned red to the tips of her ears. She sat again, turning her face away to hide her embarrassment. "You used me to make Minerva jealous."

"Now see here," Artemis demanded, angry that his good intentions were being twisted so completely. "I don't know who this 'Matthew' is you're getting your information from, but I'm not interested in Minerva romantically. Besides, if I wanted to make her jealous, do you think I would have brought _you_ with me?"

Victoria gaped at him, and he realized his mistake. "You know what I mean."

He took a deep breath to cool his boiling blood. "Yes, I did invite you here as my escort. But I always considered you my partner- my date- for this evening. I did all of this to impress you." He chuckled wryly. "Some good that accomplished. Upon recollection, it probably wasn't the wisest idea to take you to one of Minerva's events in the first place." He knelt in front of the love seat where she sat. "You, Victoria Bering, are the woman I want to be romantically involved with. Understand?"

Victoria felt horrible. She had successfully become the type of woman she swore she'd never be. She'd made Artemis into the villain without giving him the benefit of the doubt. She'd noticed he'd been strange lately, and that was without Minerva's intoxicating influence.

Is this me in love? she wondered. Come to think of it, this whole time I've only considered how romantic it would be for Artemis to love me, without considering the consequences of dating my employer's son, or what effect my leaving would have on both of us emotionally.

Her dream come true quickly became a nightmare as she realized that she could not, in good conscience, say yes. She wasn't ready for this. Not if she was so quick to turn blame and thought so little of herself that she couldn't trust Artemis when he said he loved her.

She wasn't _ready_ for this.

"Wow," she said finally, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's- quite a proposition. You- an elite of Irish society, and my employer's _son_- want to date me, a poor college student from the US." Her stomach dropped as Artemis's eyebrows flatlined at her words, but she persisted. "Do you think that's the smartest thing to do? I mean, it sounds like a great plot for a romance novel, but stuff like this just doesn't happen in real life. Sure a relationship might be nice, but in reality it probably wouldn't last a month, and I- I can't risk losing this job."

Artemis blinked. This was not what he was expecting.

"Excuse me?"

Victoria talked faster, hoping what she was thinking came out in coherent sentences. "Artemis, you're a genius!" she pleaded. "Surely you've come up with all of the reasons why this **will not work**! It's not rational!"

"Yes, I know, but-" he caught one of her hands in his "-isn't love irrational?" The ton of textbooks weighing on Victoria were toppled as she was hit by a battering ram of guilt. The stress caused her to break into a cold sweat. She needed to get out.

"Well," she stood and backed away a few paces, steeling herself, "what- what if your love is not reciprocated."

Artemis's heart condition suddenly became ten times worse. He released her hand, stunned. He had expected some resistance, to be sure; all the books he read said girls liked to play hard to get, but- rejection?

Meanwhile, Victoria was trying semi-successfully not to cry. Her first real confession from a guy she liked, and she had shot him down. Why was she such a coward?

"I mean, one of us has to be- the adult here," she choked. "I have to go home sometime to finish art school. The likelihood of long-tern relationships between continents succeeding is extremely slim; you know the statistics, and so do I. Don't you think I considered all of this before coming to Ireland and guarded myself accordingly? So-" she tried not to sound too desperate as she said; "_please_ don't feel bad about this. It's for the best."

Artemis sat down in an antique chair opposite her, trying rework his understanding of the situation. Victoria, on the other hand, debated whether to run out of the room, stand there until he said something, or just break into tears. She ended up just standing there: it took the least amount of effort.

She was lying, of that much he was certain. But why would she lie? Artemis's brows furrowed deeper, his mind racing through all the possibilities. He knew Minerva had orchestrated all of this somehow, and he would have strong words with her about it later, but that wasn't the only thing holding Victoria back. Something else, probably psychological, kept her from admitting her true feelings, and it seriously annoyed him. Time to call her bluff.

She jumped when he stood abruptly, the dim light casting dark shadows over his pale face. He made such a menacing, mystical-looking figure that Victoria didn't think to move until he was right in front of her.

"This isn't possible," he said, his face lifted so he looked more confident. The light caught his eyes, and the reflections looked like little blue flames. "I know for a fact that you love me," he said stonily. "Why won't you admit it?" Victoria tensed at this straightforward attack.

"Wha-"

"Your true feelings are so obvious, I should have noticed them when you started avoiding me after the power outage debacle. You socialize with me more frequently than before, but push me away more as well. They're hallmarks of romantic affliction; Minerva does the same and I've known about her feelings for years!"

"So why haven't you told her off?"

"It's not that simple with elites, Victoria," he said, massaging his brow, "We have alliances to consider. The point is, I know you, so why are you lying to me? Aren't you the one who said that I am the most 'adorably annoying' man you'd ever met, and that you wished that I'd 'explain my confusing behavior' so you could have some closure?" Victoria blushed furiously, confirming his statement. "I'm doing what _you_ asked! So why won't you tell me the truth?"

"Where did you hear that?!" she rebutted, her voice shrill with the fear of betrayal, tears of shame finally falling, unbidden, down her cheeks. "How did you know I felt that way? _Exactly_ that way? Did you plant recorders under my bed? A bug in my computer?" her voice grew more disgusted as she continued, "cameras in the flower vases?"

"What is with you and this paranoia? No, of course not!" Artemis insisted, wishing he could make her stop crying.

"You were in my room for days, you had plenty of opportunity!" she defended.

"You watch far too many crime shows."

"Then how did-" the answer occurred to her so suddenly that she stopped shaking. "You- you read my journal."

In that moment, Victoria didn't know who had done the most betraying; her for keeping secrets through lying, or Artemis for using those secrets against her. Not able to take this demented circumstance any longer, she headed for the door. The genius pursued her.

"What does it matter, anyway?" he asked, grabbing her arm and turning her back around. "We both love each other, so-"

"_Love?!_" Victoria finally, completely snapped. Artemis tensed as Victoria's eyes hardened, her bare shoulders hunched and her fists shaking with barely held self-control.

"What you feel isn't _love_, Artemis," she hissed, "and I'm not really in 'love' either. Your feelings stem from learning that I liked you. You never would have asked me out if you hadn't found my journal; you may be genius, Mr. Fowl, but you're a real dunce when it comes to human beings.

"My supposed feelings, on the other hand, came from a convoluted brand of Stockholm Syndrome. You see, I never loved you, only a storybook version of you. A perfect, rich prince." The cold tone she used stunned Artemis, and her hate-filled eyes reminded him of his old nemesis, Opal Koboi. Victoria opened the library door. "But, thanks to you, my illusion is now shattered. You are no prince, but a wolf in sheep's clothing. I have no further need for you, Artemis Fowl." She unclasped the necklace from her neck and untwined the blue rose from her hair, throwing them both at his feet before storming out of the room.

* * *

Victoria hadn't reached the stairs before she regretted all she had said. She stumbled into the second-floor banister for support and, when she looked back and saw that Artemis was not pursuing her, began to cry again in earnest. Why do I always do this? she berated herself. Her knees buckled and she let herself fall, keeping upright only by hanging onto the railing. I thought I had gotten rid of it, I thought it was all over. That side of myself- her self-pity was diverted by the guests chanting,

"10, 9-"

One good thing about Artemis: he had impeccable timing. Minerva's patrons all packed themselves against the floor-to-ceiling windows so they could see the anticipated fireworks organized by that one famous guy. With them all literally looking the other way, there was a clear and discreet path to Butler who had not, of course, left his post in the northwest corner since they'd arrived. Victoria pulled herself up and hurried down the stairs before anyone got bored and left the crowd. She wasn't able to stop her sobs, and so upon reaching the manservant she pressed her face against his broad chest to stifle the noise. She was tired, so tired of saving face.

True to form, Butler barely reacted upon seeing his master's escort in tears, nor did he ask why she was crying.

"Is Artemis all right?" was the first thing he said. Victoria hiccuped and shrugged. He took that as a yes, and placed a big hand on the young woman's head. After a couple of moments, when the worst of her sobs had passed, he asked, "would you like me to call a cab?"

"Yes. Have them go to-snff- Main and McPherson," she said, wiping her nose on his proffered handkerchief. Butler frowned.

"That's three blocks south of here."

"Yeah, I know," she sniffled, returning his napkin. "And can I borrow your coat?"

* * *

Wrapped in Butler's extra large dress jacket, Victoria walked through the snow to Main and McPherson, the disastrous party scene playing on a loop in her brain.

"I was s-s-so cruel," she shivered. "I'm angry, sure. I can never trust him again. In fact, I must beware of him now that he knows all of my secrets." She shuddered again, half because of the cold, and half because she realized what Artemis could do with those secrets if she made him angry. Like she did that night.

"But the truth is, I would deserve anything coming to me," she sniffled. "I was being mean for the heck of it; I wanted to see him squirm." Her arms tightened around her ribcage till they ached. "It would be a different story if I had kept my c-c-cool. Perhaps we could have talked it out; reached a compromise and s-s-still have been friends. Now," she bit back a fresh onslaught of tears, "I'll never be able to confront Artemis again."

* * *

**Not how you pictured it going? Yeah, join the club. But those stories where they don't realize their mutual feelings until the end are so overdone!**


	15. Complimentary Colors Don't Mix

When she arrived back at the manor at around 1:30, Juliet was sitting on the sofa reading a book in front of the large fireplace in the living area. She looked up when the door opened. Victoria hung Butler's snow-soaked jacket on the coat tree, avoiding the butler's gaze so she couldn't tell she'd been crying.

"Oh! I didn't have to buzz you in. Artemis gave you the code?" Juliet strained her neck, trying to see if anyone else followed Victoria through the door. "Did- everything go well?"

Victoria, who was just about to retreat up the stairs, paused and gave the blonde an exasperated, almost disappointed look. "I came back in a cab, Artemis and Butler aren't with me, and I'm a few accessories short from when I left," she growled. "Tell me Sherlock Holmes, does that add up as 'well' to you?" Juliet stared at her, stunned, and her reaction shocked Victoria from her irritation. "I am- so sorry," she whimpered before sprinting up the stairs.

She locked the door to her room and collapsed on the bed. She felt so utterly alone. She couldn't call anyone; it was New Years, she didn't want to bog someone down on a holiday, not that there was anyone she _could_ talk to. Her parents and Jenna and Joseph would think this was a good thing, the Fowls might fire her, and she just insulted Juliet. Charlie was unreachable. Then again, she didn't deserve their sympathy. She had chosen this for herself, in a roundabout way, and should accept the consequences for her actions. Still, Victoria cried until she exhausted herself into a fitful sleep.

* * *

The next day Victoria refused to leave her room. Artemis knocked on her door on multiple occasions in an attempt to reconcile with her, but she wouldn't even make a sound of response to his requests. When he tried the door, it was locked, and when he used the master key, he realized that furniture had been pushed in front of the door to ensure her privacy. He thought briefly about having Butler break the door down, then accurately assessed that that would only make the matter worse.

"Fine," he called, "If you won't talk to me in person, at least talk to me through the door. Victoria!" When he received no answer once again, the hair walked slowly back to his study, stopping multiple times to gaze through the large windows to the vast, snow-covered Fowl estate and think.

Artemis was conflicted about the whole New Years affair. On one hand, he had to admit he probably wouldn't have asked her to Minerva's party if he hadn't read her journal. However, his deception gave her no leave to overreact the way she did, and she needed to talk to someone about that vicious side of hers.

"It's almost like the Atlantis Complex, but in reverse," he hypothesized to Holly the next day. "She becomes this malicious woman intent on pain. I only had a brief encounter with her- it- but I've never seen that level of pure sadism in a _human_ before." He looked dejectedly into his teacup. "And it was directed at me." Holly bit her lip. She knew the mudboy was at a loss as to how to proceed, and she wished she had the time to sit down with him and have a heart-to-heart, but...

"We're all sorry your girly friend dumped you, Artemis, but we have more serious matters to attend to." Artemis rubbed the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes in an attempt to refocus.

"Yes. Yes of course, you're right, Foaly. Where have you gotten with Minerva's files?"

"Well, Abbott did some number on her computer's hard drive. He wiped it clean, then threw a highly contagious virus in the mix to make it impossible to reconstruct."

"Sounds like this guy has a thing for viruses," Holly quipped.

"Yeah, well, he might as well have just nuked her computer. Very little is salvageable. Though we did find a few interesting journal entries about you, Artemis." The genius's gaze dropped and his concentration scattered again.

"I don't want to know. I'm done with journals for the time being." Foaly frowned inquisitively, but Holly shook her head at him over the video cam. The centaur coughed instead. "Still, from what the French genius told us, we can postulate that Abbott intends to load his virus into the spores of some sort of mold or fungus."

"Since Haven is basically a huge cave," Holly added, "it is home to many different varieties of fungus, suck in hard-to-reach crevices in the walls."

Artemis nodded and stroked his smooth chin, glad to have a logical problem to focus on. "Which species spreads its spawn through floating spores?"

"There are 12 species with floating spores, most of them common," Foaly said, his eyes darting as they read over various screens, "but the fungus with the widest distribution of spores is Frond's Messenger, a mushroom that grows all over Haven."

Artemis hummed. "I presume harvesting all of the mushrooms would be impossible," he said, staring into the middle distance as he schemed, "so I would suggest starting with the colonies around the air ventilation systems. Those spores would travel the farthest and the fastest."

"Should've thought of that," Foaly berated himself under his breath, then said aloud; "I've already got men out collecting the stuff. I'll send them to the air ducts right away."

"But that won't stop Abbott from finding another way to spread the disease," Holly argued, "And next time, he'll use a way we can't prevent."

"I agree," Artemis said, "and I say we use this to our advantage. Abbott will notice that we have discovered the method he is using to relay his deadly disease, but he does not know how much we have learned about his plans between the pages I took from his laboratory and Minerva's testimony."

"What are you proposing?" Foaly asked.

"This is the first active involvement the LEP has had with this case," the genius explained. "Once Abbott realizes the LEP are removing the Messenger, he'll undoubtedly put eyes and ears in the Plaza. So act suspicious. In a few days, put together troops like you're going to invade a base of operations, and make sure to use an abundance of code. This will cause him to panic and possibly make a mistake."

"What if all of our playacting causes him to release the virus prematurely?" Holly pointed out.

"No, this is about revenge, not world domination," Artemis replied. "Everything has to be perfect. He'll speed up the process to be sure, but he's not ready to reveal his _piece de resistance_ just yet." The fairies were silent for a moment. There was always this moment after hearing one of Artemis's schemes; the moment they had to chose whether the incredible risks and imminent danger were worth the end game. Holly remembered Mallard on his death bed, and suddenly there was no contest.

"Alright, I'm in. But I won't be picking mushrooms. I'll go get Mulch and we'll work some- less reputable sources to see if we can find Abbott's home base," Holly decided.

Foaly nodded. "It's as good a plan as any. And for the record, I never heard her say that."

Holly laughed, glad to be on the offense again, on the hunt. Foaly signed off the conversation in order to inform Commander Kelp of their war strategy, and Artemis removed from a drawer some files he needed to look over. He paused when he realized Holly's face still wavered on his fairy communicator screen.

"Yes?" he asked, his pen poised over the papers.

"I was wondering what you're going to be doing while we're taking care of things below ground," she said. "Are those the files from Abbott's lab?"

"Indeed, but they contain information we already know," he replied. "It's Minerva's research." Holly frowned.

"Why didn't you tell Foaly you had it?"

"After he went through all that work to recover it from her computer? Heavens to Frond, it would make him furious!" Artemis chuckled, "Though it would have been nice to have Minerva's original formulas from her computer, to see which modifications Abbott made." He circled a few things on a page. "To answer your question, I'm going to try to develop an antivirus to kill the disease while it's airborne. I got the idea when Foaly mentioned that Minerva's hard drive had been infected." Holly nodded.

"I think I can help with that." The genius raised an eyebrow. The hard-boiled, gritty captain, offering help on a desk job topic? This was interesting.

"Oh really?"

"Don't give me that look. I did a bit of security detail a while back, during the big cancer scare in the 90s. In order to prevent the illness from mutating and infecting fairies, and to develop a treatment in case it did, some warlocks went topside to do some- human testing."

Artemis leaned forward in his chair. Voluntary human-fairy interaction? He'd never heard of the government approving of that before.

"They did their experiments on young children with cancer," she continued. "All little human kids believe in fairies, anyway. No one would pay them mind if they started telling stories of seeing little people in their hospital rooms. The tests were highly ethical, I assure you, and by the end of a year our alchemists were able to extrapolate a kind of cure that would stop the spread of cancer. However, we couldn't find a way to dissolve already large tumors, so the project was considered a failure." Artemis's mind raced at the implications of this new information.

"Since you're telling me this, I'm assuming you can get me the data?" he smirked. Holly grinned back.

"You mean those politically non-existent files no one has looked at in decades? They'll be in your inbox in an hour." The genius steepled his fingers, excited to finally have the upper hand. Then, his smile faltered. The last time he'd thought he'd had the advantage... Holly saw the change and sighed.

"Artemis, you should go talk to her."

He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his desk chair. "I've tried, she won't talk to me."

"I didn't say she had to talk to you," Artemis gave her a sideways glance, "but _you_ need to talk to her. Tell her why you did what you did, and apologize for what you need to apologize for."

"But how can I-" he stammered, his mind running through various plans and scenarios "-I suppose I could- but you don't understand, she-" She raised her hands to stop his explanations.

"I'm not the one who needs to hear this, Artemis, and frankly, I've got work to do." Her words were harsh, but she smiled kindly at her friend. "You're a genius, Mudboy. You'll figure this out, and be a better man for it." She hung up, and Artemis stared at the blank screen for a moment before going back to his paperwork.

* * *

At around seven in the evening on January first, Victoria decided that it wasn't doing her any good being cooped up in her room. I've got to bite the bullet and buckle down, she thought as she grabbed her sketchbook, threw it in her box of supplies, and took the whole thing downstairs. The sooner I get this mural done, the sooner I can move out of this guilt trap.

Not that Victoria hated the Fowls, or never wanted to see Artemis again. But she and Artemis had crossed an employer-employee line the previous night, or at least acknowledged that the line was there, which should never be mentioned aloud. So, after a long night of half-manic contemplating, she resolved to bump her relationship status with the family back to acquaintance. This way, she could easily complete her commission and cut all ties with the Fowl estates as soon as possible.

Yeah, a piece of cake, she told herself as tears burned her eyes and the fairy wings she was painting blurred. Emotional detachment. Just another day in the life. Though it's funny, Charlie warned me against this. Victoria used her sleeve to wipe the tears from her face. She told me that the Fowls were a shady family, bad news. I should have listened. Should have been more careful.

As she thought over her regrets, Victoria moved away from the wall without checking where she stepped and tipped over a cup of water with her foot. She nearly cursed aloud as the paint-tainted liquid that didn't pool in the plastic floor covering soaked through her socks. She threw down her paint palette and took off her university hoodie to dab up the water. It was only after thoroughly staining the hoodie that she realized she could have used the paper towels in her supply box to mop up the mess. Pulling off her socks, she backpedaled to the opposite wall and slid to the ground, squeezing her eyelids shut as pressure built up behind them. Why was nothing going right? Why was she so alone, so afraid to move forward, and, on top of it all, so prone to bad luck? As if she didn't have enough on her plate, fending for herself in a foreign European country. Victoria rubbed her forehead against her folded arms till the friction burned. She needed to vent. It didn't matter to whom, anymore, she just needed someone to ask her-

"What's the matter, Da Vinci?" an all-too-familiar voice inquired. "Your progress on the mural is most impressive, and the lighting is coming along fabulously, so what's wrong? Is it- the mural?" Victoria tilted her head to see Artemis leaning over her, hands behind his back, an inquisitive expression on his face.

"Ugh. Anyone but you," she mumbled, her treacherous heart threatening to beat out of her chest. "I really don't need your false compliments right now. It's funny, before I would have accepted them gratefully, but I thought I made it quite clear that I want to go my own way."

"I wouldn't dream of obstructing your goals," he said, his jaw tense as he considered how to proceed. "But Victoria, I do need to talk to you."

She groaned and turned her head away from him, nestling her face between her knees. "Whatever it is, the answer's no."

"That's not a safe statement to make to a genius," Artemis pointed out, and she could almost hear the grin in his voice. "Can I take your word on that answer?" She sighed at his logic.

"Fine." Victoria sat up, her nose running from withheld emotions. Artemis offered her his handkerchief and she refused it, wiping her face on her soiled hoodie instead. "What is it?"

Artemis knelt down on one knee so they were on the same level. "I just want you to hear my reasons why I did what I did. It doesn't matter if you say no, I'll keep coming back until you listen." The artist crossed her arms. "But I want you to know the whole story before you decide whether or not our- relationship- is worth keeping."

Victoria considered his offer for a moment.

"Do I have to agree with your opinions?" she asked finally.

"No."

"Carry on then."

Artemis inhaled deeply- he hadn't had to reveal himself like this since his therapy sessions with Dr. Argon- and told her everything (well, within reason). He told her about how ever since he had accused Joseph of loving her, he'd been in love with her himself, but he had kept it a secret, even from himself. After he realized it, though, he immediately began to devise a way to confess his feelings, but, because of his lack of self-esteem when it came to these kinds of interactions, he could not scheme up a suitable reveal. Then, he found her journal.

"I'm sorry that I read it, and I wouldn't have if I'd known it would shatter your trust in me so completely," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "But learning that you feel- felt- so strongly for me made me ecstatic. And," he said, emboldened by her silent attention, "let's face it, I probably never world have known if I hadn't read the journal."

"You could have just _asked_ me!" Victoria hissed, shrugging him off. "That's how all _normal_ relationships are supposed to start! Besides, I'm not the most subtle person, so I've never been good at hiding my feelings."

Artemis shook his head. "Could have fooled me. You did, actually, and I'm an expert in human behavior." He looked thoughtful. "It's interesting, really, how heightened emotion can cloud one's judgment." He took a deep breath to continue his story. "In any case, I invited you to Minerva's party, bought you the necklace, and arranged everything to show you how much I love you- or perhaps how much of an amateur I am." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily.

Even though she wanted to be angry, his self-frustration caused Victoria to pity him. She began to say something to comfort him, but then he continued; "I was confident because I took advantage in the knowledge that you loved me, and I was in error. In the future, I will consider the consequences of my advances and strive to regain-"

"Wait wait wait." Victoria stood and backed up a few steps to make sure he couldn't hear her heart throbbing. "'Advances'? You're not giving- you're not going to go away?"

"Well, I do live here," he said, patting down his slacks as he rose from his knees. He sighed at the horror on her face and the confusion in her eyes. "Do you really think so little of me- and yourself- that I would think you are worth abandoning so easily?" he asked. His voice was sad, but grew a hard edge when he proclaimed, "No, I meant it when I said I loved you, and I have reason to believe you haven't stopped loving me, either. One rejection isn't going to change the chemistry we share." He smirked. "Trust me, when it comes to science I'm quite the prodigy."

"Wh-well what if I reject you a second time?" she asked, wincing as she felt her more vengeful side take over.

"I'll try again," Artemis replied, taking a step toward her.

"A third rejection?" He grinned wider.

"To use an old cliche, you'll have to do better than that."

"A fourth, then?" Artemis grimaced at the horrible number, and Victoria grinned wickedly. "So _four's_ the lucky number, eh?" The genius's brows flatlined, and he closed the distance between them before she could run away. Victoria, flustered by his proximity and divided on how to proceed, tried to back away, but Artemis matched her step for step, though he never tried to touch her.

"No matter how many times you reject me," he said in a low, husky voice, "no matter what lies you devise to drive me away, I'm not the sort of man who is accustomed to losing."

Is he trying to intimidate me? Victoria wondered, annoyed by his high-and-mighty claims. Her path curved toward to end of the mural, where her art supplies were, and Artemis followed, watching her face closely for her reaction to his challenge.

But if he read my diary, he should know, I don't like people exercising their authority over me. She glanced down at the paint buckets by her feet. It makes me want to fight back!

Before Artemis could stop her, Victoria dipped her hand in a bucket of orange paint and flicked it at him, her projectile splatting across his chest. The tension that built up in her chest dispelled when she saw the look of complete shock on his face, and she guffawed loudly.

"Oh, indeed!" Artemis said sarcastically, anger edging his voice. "You are the epitome of maturity, Miss Bering. This is a cashmere sweater!"

Victoria picked up the gallon of paint and prepared for a second attack. "Then I've saved you from a fashion _faux pas_!" she exclaimed. "I thought only women wore cashmere?"

"Shall I give it to you, then?" He was answered by another handful of paint across his face and shoulder. Victoria laughed diabolically.

"Good thing I had the foresight to put down so much plastic huh?" she said, gesturing to the floor with her paint-stained hand. "Otherwise, I'd feel bad for dirtying the carpet."

Artemis, stunned, reached up to touch his face. He stared at the pigment that came away on his fingertips.

"So _that's_ how you want to play?" he muttered, looking up and giving her a near-murderous glance.

"What?" she asked. Her eyes widened as he picked up a tin of paint as well. "Artemis, no- I didn't wear my paint clothes today, Artemis-" She gasped as a string of blue paint splattered across the front of her Mickey Mouse T-shirt.

"What a coincidence," Artemis quipped, "neither did I." Victoria roared in response and threw another wad of paint at him. She mostly missed, but clipped him on the leg. He retaliated, this time he hit _her_ in the face, covering her glasses with paint. She tossed them aside.

"The heck, Richie?" she yelled, waving her arms to steady herself as her socks slid across the transparent plastic. "Why are you so uptight? At least I have a reason to be angry, so stand still and take your punishment!" Artemis dodged her next projectile and launched his own.

"I _have_ been punished!" he replied, ducking another assault. "Do you know what it's like to have the person you love reject you, then leave you at a party all alone? It's heartbreaking, not to mention humiliating!" Victoria faltered at the "heartbreaking" part, only to get a large steak of paint across her stomach.

"Well, how about the heartbreak I experienced, huh?!" she demanded, raining an onslaught down on him. "I thought you were different, as stupid as that sounds. I thought you could be the one! But then you went and stabbed me in the back!" Artemis gave up on defense and returned with his own slew of paint and pointed statements.

"Is that so? What happened to 'I never loved you' and 'I am prepared to abstain from relationships'?" he asked, though pleased by her confession. She grimaced as paint splashed across her cheek. She could already feel it hardening in her hair.

"I don't think you're in a position to accuse me of lying, Mr. I-can't-ask-out-a-girl-without-leverage! You've probably never done this before, but doesn't give you any excuse to cheat!" Artemis wiped some paint out of his eyes. It occurred to him through her lexical choices that Victoria had mistaken his noble pursuit of her for a rich heir looking for a way to amuse himself. It was time to end their silly game.

"At least I am honest about my affections!" he countered, his eyes calculating and his grin malicious. "I don't know which to be more concerned about; how much you lie to me, or how much you lie to yourself!"

Victoria had been secretly enjoying this back-and-forth up until now, but his last statement hit her where it hurt, and by the look in his eyes, he knew it. Of all the gall! She ran forward with her hand ready in the bucket of paint, going in for the kill. Artemis placed his bucket on the ground and raised his arms and spread his legs in a fighting stance he had most likely never used in combat.

Her frown deepened; he must know what is coming, so why doesn't he retreat? She was still contemplating this when her bare foot slipped in a pool of dirty water that she had failed to mop up earlier. The loss of what little friction she had caused her leg to swing backward and propel her body forward. She had just enough time to think "that scheming little snake" before her face collided with Artemis's torso. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her from falling. From her slumped position, her head pressed beneath his collarbone, she could feel his heart beat against her ear; it beat as fast as hers. She blushed so furiously that she didn't notice when he started stroking her hair; in fact, it was a calming touch, almost familiar.

"You can push me away if this is uncomfortable for you," Artemis murmured, clearing hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. She swallowed hard. She knew if she wanted to keep up the illusion of anger she needed to flee immediately, but when they were this close the magnetism between them was as undeniable as it was intoxicating.

She looked up at him, her face rubbing blue paint into the orange already on his cashmere sweater, and he helped her to her feet. Her eyes searched his, trying to ferret out his character. At first glance, his eyes were startling, even dubious, and made her want to distrust him. But when she stood close to him and gazed past the shallows, she saw an illusive integrity in the midnight blue, and a purity in his soul that beckoned to her.

Artemis wondered what would happen if he did something rash right then. He hated using his ill-gotten knowledge against her, but her journal suggested that she could take quite a lot of emotional abuse in a relationship before permanently ending it. Not that what he had in mind was abuse, of course, but it would certainly make her angry. Really angry. But with her so close, her face open and honest and hopeful, the temptation was too hard to resist.

The hand he still had in her hair fell to the base of her neck, and he watched her green-hazel eyes for any change. Her pupils undulated as she scrutinized him, but other than that she stayed still. The hypnotic expansion and contraction of her pupils further drew him in, so that their foreheads almost touched. She had not rejected him yet, he noticed, despite all her talk, so perhaps his experiment was worth the risk. Careful not look down at her lips and betray his target, he leaned in and kissed her.

He didn't have the greatest aim; he caught the bottom of her nose at first, then quickly recovered and found her mouth, pressing against her till his lips completely covered hers.

Victoria's eyes widened with bewilderment as jolts of pleasure spread from her mouth to her fingertips and toes and sent her heart into overdrive. His lips were soft, if not a little stiff, and his eyelashes brushed her left cheek. She was aware of every lash against her skin; anywhere he touched her became hypersensitive. The sensation was similar for Artemis; warmth spread through his entire frame, a warmth he had never felt before. Her lips were chapped, but they melded perfectly with his, smoldering, and the fire stemmed from there. He pulled her closer, enjoying the new experience and wanting to feel more of that contagious fire.

When Artemis's grip on her arm and neck tightened, taboo alarms began ringing in her brain. Her rage rekindled as rapidly as it had been smothered, and her mind, on the verge of melting from happiness, iced over again as she realized what he had done. He was going to get it later, but now she needed to escape to a place where she was safe from him and her own traitorous emotions. Problem was, she wasn't sure he'd let her simply walk away at this point. Then she remembered she still held her gallon of paint. With Artemis still distracted by the kiss, she raised the bucket behind him and tipped it on its end, covering his head and back in orange. He released her immediately, and she skipped backward until she was a few meters away.

"Whaa-"

"You took advantage of me in a moment of weakness!" she scolded before he could complain.

"Was it a 'moment of weakness'?" Artemis asked, irritated at her stubbornness, but frozen to slow the paint's steady drip down his back, "or a moment of clarity?" Victoria sputtered for a second, struggling with his logic, but, realizing that she could make no argument, she left the mural hallway, not caring if she tracked painted footprints down the corridor.

Victoria's footsteps grew heavier the angrier she became. How dare he think he deserved her first kiss? She had put specific restrictions in place to make sure her first time was special, and her careful planning had been ruined by the impulsiveness of an overprivileged teenager!

She was more angry with herself, though, because she knew she'd enjoyed it. She was not of sound mind enough to return the kiss, but she didn't pull away either, which practically made her an accomplice. This derailed her intended apathy toward Artemis and probably gave him an immense ego boost. It's a good thing he's such a cleanliness prude, Victoria thought. He'll clean himself up before he comes after me, and I made _sure _that that will take a while. In the mean time, she'd hide in her room and convince herself that the ki- the event did not mean as much to her as it truly did.

Victoria heard her before she saw her. Still halfway down the hall to the main foyer, Victoria's eyes widened when she recognized the voice bouncing off of the high, manor walls.

"I'm not lying, pal! I'm here for Victoria Bering!" a female voice pleaded. "I'm not a terrorist or anything- my dad's ex-military!" Victoria's heart beat against her ribcage as she ran toward the foyer.

"I'm sorry, miss, but I cannot permit unauthorized visitors," Butler replied in his usual, blunt manner.

"Unauthorized?!" the intruder squeaked. "I knew the code!"

Victoria arrived on the scene as Butler began to forcibly shut the door on a slim, brunette woman carrying two duffel bags. Before he could, though, she threw one of her bags in the doorjamb.

"Look here, pal!" Her demanding voice echoed off of the arched ceilings of the foyer, and Victoria wondered if the whole manor heard their altercation. "I did not spend nine hours on a mother frikkin plane and a night in a shady hotel to be turned away now." She reached up to poke Butler on the lapel. He blinked, stunned, then frowned. Victoria reached them just as Butler's muscles started to tense. She realized she must look like a very colorful train wreck with her hair knotted, face red, and body covered in paint, so she didn't say anything, but instead grabbed the visitor's hand and swept her away before she had time to reclaim her bags. Butler watched them retreat, his face not betraying his discombobulation. After analyzing Victoria's splattered appearance, he wisely went in search of his ward, deciding that Artemis had gone unsupervised for long enough.

"Dear Lord, Vic, what happened to you?" the brunette asked, also noticing the artist's state. "You look like you barely escaped a Smurf ambush-"

"Charlie, what were you thinking, coming here unannounced like that?" Victoria hissed, now that they were out of earshot. "If I hadn't gotten there, Butler could have done much worse than kicked you out! They take their security very seriously around here."

"Nice to see you, too!" Charlie scoffed. "And that's some advice, coming from the girl who didn't heed my warnings about coming here." Victoria sighed and released her wrist.

"I'm sorry," she said. In truth, she was relieved that Charlie was there; she felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted. She moved in to give her a hug, looked down at the still-wet paint all over her and settled for holding her hand. They both laughed.

"Apology accepted," Charlie replied, "that is, if you bring me up to speed on-" she looked down at Victoria's ruined garb "-do I really want to know?" The redhead brought a finger to her lips.

"Shhhhh- not here."

The two ran the rest of the way to Victoria's rooms and locked the door behind them. Charlie barely had time to set down her one bag before her friend pushed her into the large restroom and locked that door, too.

"Victoria," Charlie said slowly, as if talking to a spooked horse, "why the heck are we hiding in your bathroom? Though you do need a shower in a bad way."

Victoria chuckled softly and sat down cross-legged on the padded toilet lid.

"The bathroom is the only place I can be sure Artemis didn't bug," she confessed. Charlie raised her eyebrows incredulously.

"Wow. That's some extreme paranoia you got going on there, hon."

"For good reason!" Victoria exclaimed. "You missed a lot while you were MIA." She went on to recount the events of the last few days, even the little things she thought might be relevant, like Artemis giving her the blue rose to wear. Charlie was unusually attentive for her, barely making any comments as she talked. Even without her input, though, Victoria's story took about an hour to finish.

"And so today he took the initiative and kissed you?" Victoria blushed and looked at Charlie quizzically.

"I didn't tell you that, how did you know?" Charlie gestured to her own lips and chin.

"You were the one who taught me that complimentary colors make a brownish-grey when mixed," she said, "and you've got a nice example of orange-blue brown around your mouth." The redhead's hand flew to her face.

"That's been there this whole time? That's worse than smeared lipstick! Ugh, and to think Artemis saw that!" Charlie grinned mischievously.

"Well, if it helps, that color really brings out your eyes." Victoria threw a stick of soap at her, and Charlie squealed. Both girls laughed.

"It's good to see you, Charles," Victoria sighed. "Do you have anywhere to stay?" Her friend winced.

"Actually, I was hoping that I could stay here. The hotel I stayed at last night was far less than savory." Victoria grinned, relieved.

"Give me half an hour to shower, then I'll see what I can do."

* * *

**Yay, a friend for Victoria! Now will she be able to stand her ground against Artemis's advances?**


End file.
